Give Me Love
by tell-me-something-new
Summary: (CONTINUED ON TUMBLR) With barely any memory, Hermione wakes in the hospital wing at Hogwarts in 1942. Confused and scared with no knowledge except her name and age, Hermione fights to get her memories back. Dumbledore's interested in the obvious fact she is from the future, Tom's interested in breaking her from her "shockingly" wild and defiant spirit. M for *many* reasons.
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: **I'm not J.K.R. I don't own these characters.

**A/N: **A big shout out to my friend, Chris, for being kind enough as to help beta this when I couldn't find a beta. Please note that I'm not the best when it comes to writing British character, slang, or any of the sort. I try my best and that's what matters, right? So please, enjoy. And yes, the Preface is supposed to be this short. Chapter One will be much, much longer. Remember to review! Reviews are what keeps me writing.

**x x x**

"_I'll never forget those eyes,  
That beautiful smile.  
I still remember,  
The way you said goodbye.  
No matter how hard I try,  
I can't forget about..."_

_- "Beautiful Girl" by Broken Iris_

**x x x**

**10 June 1999**

She didn't know how she came to be here. She didn't know what had happened for her to be sitting here, alone and crying on the train. She sat hunched over, her face buried in her hands as her shoulders shook. The gentle rocks of the train couldn't help calm her down even now.

The edges of her white gown where dirty with mud, her once-perfect satin white heels inches deep in the same mud. Her hair was falling from its delicate up-do, the tiara threatening to fall off. Her mascara sat in a fading stream down her cheek, messed up from her tears.

Trying to be as quite as possible as to not attract as much attention as she already had when walking into her assigned compartment, she had to bite her lip, welcoming the pain that came with that to turn her mind away from the pain of the mistake she had just made.

She had hurt one of her best friends.

She had betrayed him.

_I'm such a horrible person_, she told herself.

When her sobs had ceased, she pulled her face from her hands and looked down at herself. She was shaking, shaking to the point that she didn't know how to control herself. She was...beautiful despite the mess she was in – she knew that much.

Feeling alone, she wrapped her arms around herself.

She would go to her parents if only they still had memories of her.

She had nowhere to go but to her flat in Diagon Alley.

Thank goodness she still had her job at Flourish and Blotts and thank goodness she had money saved in Gringotts.

Thank goodness she still had her memory.

Or was that really a good thing?

She would never forget _him_, the man that had showed her the world that her best friend could forever fail to do.

But that was it.

She _needed_ to forget him.

She needed to...move on and start _fresh_.


	2. 1: Wordless

**A/N:** Just wanted you guys to know that this fanfic is heavily influenced by Ed Sheeran's "_Give Me Love_".

**x x x**

"_Fall asleep to dreams of home,  
Where the waves are crashing.  
The only place I've ever known..."_

_- "Hold Me Now" by Red_

**x x x**

**~{ Chapter One: Wordless }~**

**20 September 1942**

She didn't know where she was. She didn't know how she got here. And she most certainly didn't know...well, _anything_.

_My name is Hermione Granger, I'm seventeen years old..._ That was as much as she knew. A part of her was panicking while the other part of her laid there curious, looking up at the high stone ceiling of the place she was in.

"Oh goodness! You're awake!" came a high-pitched woman's voice that Hermione could tell was filled with a strange mix of worry and relief.

"It's a miracle you're alive!" Hermione heard her say as she felt a heavy weight on the bed beside her.

_I'm laying in a bed and I can't move...paralyzed_

Alright, it was time for her to fully panic.

"Calm down dear, you're alright," said the woman soothingly.

Hermione's eyes flew up to the woman's face, seeing her as a young woman who couldn't be much older than thirty. She had dark brown hair up in a neat bun, she wore what looked to be a very old-fashioned nurse's uniform, and her warm brown eyes were aged with constant worry. Who was this woman? Why did she seem familiar?

"Drink this, it will help calm you down," she said as Hermione eyed the strange-looking cup that was placed to her lips. She welcomed the cold liquid and found relief in it. As the cold, smooth liquid traveled down her throat, she felt her heart rate slow down from the frantic state it had been in just seconds ago.

Hermione tried to sit up. She tried to speak, but all she could do was allow tears to escape her eyes from the pain she felt from trying and the frustration that came with it.

"You need to remain laid down, dear. And try not to speak. It will slow down the healing process."

"Madam Pomfrey?" came an elder's voice from the end of the room.

_Pomfrey_, Hermione thought. _Why did that sound so familiar_?

"Oh, Dumbledore! Come at once – she is awake!" said Madam Pomfrey as she stood up from the bed.

Hermione's eyes fell on the old man approaching her bedside. She must have been in what looked to be an infirmary of some sort. It felt so familiar, but her mind was still drawing frustrating blanks. The man had long, light chestnut hair with a matching beard and kind eyes gazing at Hermione over half-moon spectacles. He wore strange clothing. He looked like a...a wizard.

_Wizard_, Hermione thought with curiosity. Another word that sounds familiar.

"My dear," said the man called Dumbledore, talking directly at Hermione, "do you remember who you are?"

"Dumbledore," Pomfrey scowled. "Her vocal chords are still in the process of healing. She cannot answer you."

Dumbledore didn't look moved by Pomfrey's words. "Which is exactly why I had brought with me some parchment and ink. I trust you have a quill for me to use?"

Hermione watched as Pomfrey hesitated before she pulled a quill from a pocket in her apron. She held it out to Dumbledore. Immediately, Pomfrey helped Hermione sit up, pillows placed behind her back.

Dumbledore rolled out a piece of parchment he had in his robes and laid it on Hermione's lap. He dipped the quill in the ink he also had in his robes and handed it to Hermione. The man was prepared, which was slightly odd. Without hesitation, Hermione took it. She needed just as many answers as it seemed this _Dumbledore_ needed.

"What is your name, my dear?"

Hermione wrote her name out on the parchment. **_Hermione Granger_**.

"Muggle born," Hermione heard Dumbledore murmur to himself. He looked over at Hermione. "Do you know how you got here?"

Hermione quickly shook her head, a worried expression on her face. She turned back to the parchment, writing, **_Do you_**?

Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows and shifted the way he was sitting on the bed. "No. You were found on the second floor. I was hoping you would know. You were badly injured, Miss Granger. How old are you?"

_**Seventeen**_.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "So young," he commented. "Magic has been sensed in you, Miss Granger. And the Head Boy had found your wand with you. Do you know what that means?"

_**Magic?**_

"Yes, Miss Granger. _Magic_." He took a moment to study her face. "You're a witch, which helps explain the wand and any possibility of why you are here."

Hermione should have been surprised. She shouldn't have believed him...but she couldn't help _but_ to believe him. All she did was furrow her eyebrows.

Pomfrey eyed the two carefully before she was shooing Dumbledore away. "She's exhausted, Dumbledore. Please, you may come back tomorrow, but for _goodness sake_ let the girl rest. She has _much_ healing to do," she insisted.

Dumbledore took the parchment and rolled it up, putting it back in his robes as he did the same with his ink. He handed the quill back to Pomfrey and took one more look at Hermione.

Hermione was helped back down into a laying position and it wasn't long before she had fallen back to sleep, feeling as exhausted as Pomfrey had said she was.

Hours and hours later, somewhere between conscious and unconscious, Hermione heard voices.

"...she needs to be schooled," said an unfamiliar male voice. "She's a _witch_."

"Indeed. But what do we do about her current situation?" came another unfamiliar voice belonging to a woman.

"The best we can do is wait for her remember who she is. There's no doubt that her memories can be restored within time," said Dumbledore.

"How are we going to teach her _six years_ of missed schooling, Professor?" asked the woman.

"Tutoring. Surely that won't hurt, would it?" Dumbledore suggested.

"She will need to be tutored _every_ single day, Albus," said the man's voice. "Who in Merlin's beard would agree to that?"

"I would, Professor," came another unfamiliar voice. This voice belonged to a young man.

There was a moment of silence. And that was when Hermione fell back into her full unconscious state.

**x x x**

_She was dreaming._

_Surely she was dreaming._

_She didn't remember this place, but she felt like she did. She felt as if she had visited this place thousands of time before, as if she had gone there since childhood._

_It was in the middle of winter, from what it seemed. Hermione stood in the middle of a tiny village. Witches and wizards passed her by while somewhere in the distance, dwarfs were singing Christmas Carols._

_Wait, she knew about these things? Of witches and wizards, dwarfs and the village._

_**Hogsmeade** ran through her mind repeatedly._

_"'Mione! You comin'?" came a voice some feet away behind her._

_She turned her head and saw no one, just a thick canopy of pitch-black nothingness. But that voice. That nickname. Why was it so familiar?_

_"'Mione!" the same voice yelled. It was a young man's voice. He sounded desperate._

"Hermione!"

Hermione's eyes shot open, gasping from her dream as she looked around her. She was still in the infirmary as she had been before. Light was ghosting through the windows. Out of an instinct, she sat up.

Her eyes slightly widened. She sat up on her own. She wasn't paralyzed anymore. She was healed. To test just how far her healing at went, she spoke.

"Hello?" she called out. Her voice was weak and quiet, but it was there.

The sound of heels clicking against the stone flooring echoed through the entire hall, Pomfrey coming into view. "Miss Granger, you're up and well! Thank goodness!"

Hermione stifled a relieved smile.

"Do you want to try walking, dear?" she asked kindly.

"Yes," Hermione said with a smile as she grabbed the blanket that was on top of her and pushed it off, swinging her legs around until her socked feet touched the cold surface of the stone floor. She looked down at herself, seeing herself wearing an old navy blue button-up sweater over a faded pastel pink tee shirt and thick black leggings. She pushed herself to her feet, finding it a bit hard to keep herself from being so wobbly, but other than that, she stood with ease.

"Oh, wondrous, dear! You're able to walk!" Pomfrey cheered as Hermione took a few steps towards Pomfrey, testing the feelings in her tailbone, legs, and feet.

Hermione was smiling softly now.

Just then, the doors to the infirmary opened and in came Dumbledore with a cheery smile, as if he just knew she'd awoken by now. "You've healed, I see?" he asked when he finally came over to her.

She gave him a smile before returning her eyes to Pomfrey. "What had happened?"

"Well, the Head Boy had found you barely alive and brought you here. Your vocal and spinal chords were crushed, nearly beyond repair...but given the correct potions, you slept for a few days and now here you are, good as new!"

"Except my memories," Hermione said softly.

Pomfrey's smile faltered. "Except your memories."

"Who found me?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows furrowed and smile gone.

"His name is Tom Riddle," Dumbledore answered her. _Tom Riddle_. A small coil of fear rose in her chest at that name. But how was it so familiar? "Would you like to meet him, dear? I trust you're famished."

At the sudden thought of food, her hand flew to her grumbling stomach. "I'd escort you to breakfast, but I need to get you sorted into your House first-hand."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed further. "House?"

"There are four Houses, Miss Granger. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Each acquires certain dominant qualities. Our Sorting Hat will know which one of your qualities is dominant for which House. Your House is like a...family, if you would."

Hermione said nothing as she eyed a pair of worn boots near the end of the bed she was laying in. She recognized them to be hers. She slipped her feet into them as Dumbledore began walking away. Pomfrey helped her keep her balance as she put her feet into the boots and zipped them up. After that, Hermione struggled to keep up with Dumbledore.

Hermione followed Dumbledore down strangely familiar hallways, stairs, and to a large stone gargoyle that looked to be blocking a spiral flight of stairs. Dumbledore said something, and suddenly the gargoyle was twisting around, showing the stairs. Dumbledore motioned for her to go first and she did without a word.

At the top of the stairs was a very, very large room which must have been the headmaster's office. Sitting in a regal chair looking over some papers at a very old and expensive-looking desk, sat the headmaster.

"Armando, I've brought her."

Headmaster Dippet looked up from his papers and narrowed his eyes on Hermione. He was very, very aged with long white hair and matching beard, not an inch of skin on his features without a wrinkle.

"Miss Granger! I was wondering how long it would be until I saw you," he greeted cheerfully as he got to his feet, rounded his desk, and walked over to her. He grabbed her small hand with his large warm hands and shook it eagerly. "My name is Professor Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwarts, you see."

Hermione just gave him a small smile. "Right then. Let's get you sorted. Ah, Dumbledore, if you please?"

Hermione turned her head and watched as Dumbledore walked over to one of the book cases and reached up on top, grabbing a very old-looking brown hat. With it in hand, he walked over and placed it on Hermione's head.

Hermione gasped when it spoke.

"Oh my dear," the hat said. "This is, by far, an _easy_ one. Your power, strength, and determination has placed you in Slytherin." The hat sounded almost as if it were bored, which made a hint of disappointment lurch in her stomach.

The hat was taken from her head as Hermione quickly looked to the hat. "Slytherin?"

"Yes. Your House. Now. Dumbledore, she must be hungry. If you would please, escort her down to the Great Hall? I'll make arrangements to get her school clothes and books in order. Have Madam Pomfrey send her wand down."

"My wand?" Hermione asked, curious, recalling Dumbledore saying something about her wand when he told her that she was a witch.

"Well yes, my dear. Tom found it lying next to you when he had found you."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as Dumbledore put his hand on her back and urged her away.

Once back down in the hallway from the stairs, Dumbledore led the way down another set of familiar hallways. After descending a few flights of stairs, they had finally reached the Great Hall.

Inside was a very large hall with tables barely filled with students dressed in colors according to the table. The very left was green, then came yellow, then red, and then blue. There weren't many students to fill each table, probably because of how early it was, but things were beginning to, well...hardly, make sense to Hermione.

Up ahead was a table where adults were sitting – most likely the teachers..._professors_.

Hermione saw in the corner of her eyes as Dumbledore motioned someone over.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and then suddenly, a pale boy who looked to be her age with pitch-black wavy hair, dark eyes, and a blank expression stood before them. He wore the color green on his tie. And the small crest on his robes was of a snake of some sort.

"Professor?" the boy greeted. His voice sounded familiar. Hermione then recognized it to be the boy's voice from the other night when she was half-awake, half-asleep.

"Tom, this is Hermione."

Tom's eyes fell to Hermione, Quickly, his eyes swept over her attire and Hermione could have sworn she saw a wry smirk in his eyes. "Pleasure," he said in a rather patronizing voice, holding a hand out for Hermione to shake.

She just nodded her head with a small smile and took his hand, shaking it. His hand was cold. Soft, but cold. Up to the point it sent a shiver down Hermione's spine.

"Dippet would like your lesson plans for her as soon as possible. But as for now, I trust that as Head Boy, you know how to make a new student feel welcome?" Dumbledore asked.

Tom nodded his head. "Yes sir."

"Now," Dumbledore started as he turned to look down at Hermione, "You're more than five years behind on proper witch-schooling. So Tom here has agreed to help teach you all that you have missed," Dumbledore explained to her.

Hermione sucked in a breath, nodding her head in understanding.

"Make sure you show her around. She won't be going to her classes until next week. Right now, Dippet is arranging her schedule. She's been sorted into Slytherin."

Hermione watched as Tom's eyebrows softly lifted with a mild case of surprise. "Lovely," he commented almost too smoothly.

"Thank you, Tom. Now, Hermione," Hermione looked up at him, "if you ever need help on anything you come to Tom, me, or Dippet, you understand?"

Hermione nodded her head.

And with that, Dumbledore was off.

Hermione watched him head to the teacher's table as she then turned to Tom, who was watching her carefully, almost as if he were studying her.

"This way to the Slytherin's table then. You're lucky it's the weekend. I'll be able to get first year lessons down pat by Monday, hopefully," Tom said as Hermione automatically followed him to the Slytherin table.

Hermione sat down at the table, next to two girls talking about something relating to Potions.

"Avery, Marcilla, this is the new girl – Hermione Granger," Tom said to the two girls.

The two girls stopped talking and looked to Hermione.

The girl closest to her was blonde with perfect features and brown eyes she held her hand out to Hermione. "I'm Avery. Avery Menlane and this here is Marcilla Brirestib," Avery said as she pointed to the other girl who had prominent green eyes, ivory skin, and pitch black hair. She waved at Hermione with a 'hi'.

Hermione just smiled and aknowledged the two with a nod of her head.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" Marcilla asked easily.

It was odd. Hermione felt as if this wasn't in her nature – to be so quiet. She felt as if she should be speaking, asking questions, wanting to get to know the two girls that were apart of her new 'family'. But at the same time, she felt too weak, too scared, alone, and confused to give a care. Quietness just came over her ever since her vocal chords needed to be healed.

"Marcilla, leave Miss Granger alone. I trust you girls will be alright sharing your room with her," said Tom across the table. He had pushed a plate over to Hermione containing eggs, toast, and bacon.

The girls looked excited at the news.

"We'd love to share our room with the new girl. This is so exciting!" exclaimed Avery with a little too much excitement.

Marcilla rolled her eyes. "Bloody hell, Avery. She's just a girl who's going to share our room with us."

Avery fell silent and gave Hermione a small, warm smile before she returned to her breakfast. Tom gazed up between the three girls before turning his attention to the Daily Prophet that he now had in his hands. Hermione glanced at it, seeing that it read September 21, 1942.

A rush of panic ran through Hermione at the sight of the date, but she didn't understand how and why.

Hermione uneasily looked down at her breakfast and grabbed a fork. She hadn't realized the amount of hunger she had until she took that first bite of perfectly-cooked eggs.


	3. 2: Tutoring

**Just a special thanks to my first reviewers:** _Relatela_, _RavenclawPrincess90_, and _Onesmartcookie78_! Thank you so much, guys!

**A/N:** Happy that I've received reviews_ already_! Now, yes, I'm updating the story twice (I guess you could say three but I really wouldn't count preface as one), but I wanted to get some chapters out of the way before I go back to my boring busy life during the week (I'm lucky I had today off). So I apologize for how slow this story must seem (it feels slow to me but don't worry, we're getting there!) but I wanted to make sure I get everything sorted out for you guys. Enjoy chapter two! And please, review! Also, if anything is wrong, please don't feel bad telling me! I'm perfectly fine with having to make adjustments to my story. So...yeah. Again, enjoy!

**x x x**

"_Both of us basically unattached,  
To anything or anyone,  
unless we're pretending.  
You live your life in your head.  
Some call it imagination..."_

_- "Odd One" by Sick Puppies_

**x x x**

**~{ Chapter Two: Tutoring }~**

Hermione stared down at the parcel that Dumbledore had just placed in her hands. It was her new school uniforms, she had been informed. She frantically looked up a Dumbledore and Dippet, who were watching her warily.

"How am I going to pay for this?" she asked quietly.

Dippet let out a warm chuckle. "Don't worry, dear! I have that all sorted out. I paid for them myself. Education is important, you know. And being properly ready for it is too," Dippet said as looked beyond Hermione. "Ah, right on time, Tom!"

Hermione turned her head and saw Tom. He was walking towards them hurriedly, his head held high as if he ruled over the entire place. In a way, it disgusted Hermione, that there could be someone with such an arrogant air about them here in the place that was supposed to be her _home_.

With an elegant, pale hand, Tom outstretched a piece of rolled-up parchment to Dippet. "I've written out my lesson plans, as asked for."

"Capital work, Tom!" Dippet cheered as he motioned the parchment toward Hermione. "When do you plan on starting with her?"

Hermione tried to read Tom's face but all she found were slightly raised eyebrows and a very unreadable face. "Right away, sir," Tom answered.

"Perfect, Tom!"

Tom turned his attention to Hermione. "Shall we head to the library then? We can try and get Transfiguration out of the way before lunch." Hermione had sensed a hint of coldness in his voice.

Hermione just nodded her head.

"Before you go, Miss Granger. I'd like to have a word with you," said Dumbledore calmly.

Hermione had turned her body around, ready to follow Tom away from the stone gargoyle they were standing before. She turned her head to Dumbledore with aware eyes.

"Of course," Hermione said softly as she nodded her head.

Dippet disappeared up the stairs to his offic and Tom was asked to wait in the Great Hall for Hermione.

"Now, Miss Granger, I have some theories of your presence here," Dumbledore said to her in a hushed voice.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Yes?" she asked with anticipation.

"You must be from the future," he started as if it were possible. "It's the only explanation of your sudden presence here, how you have no family – I've checked, believe me – and how you already have your own wand, your memory loss...there's a large list that all adds up to it. Either that or some dark magic has dealt with you, sending you here for a specific reason."

Hermione huffed a sigh as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling helpless, vulnerable, and out of place at Dumbledore's "_theories_".

"Miss Granger, please don't fret," Dumbledore told her softly. He put a hand to her back as a kind gesture. "I will get down to the bottom of this." He then moved away from her. "Where there is a will, there must be a way!" he said with a cheerful smile following.

Hermione felt hope rise in her chest as she relaxed a bit.

"I trust you remember the way to the Great Hall?" Dumbledore then asked her.

Hermione nodded her head.

**x x x**

Tom was found near the entrance of the Great Hall scolding a first year harshly, holding a piece of parchment in his hand. Hermione waited a few feet away from the scene, waiting patiently for Tom.

"...not allowed to write such horrible things. I don't want to see or hear about this again, do you hear?" Tom asked in a cold voice that made Hermione be unable to keep herself from cringing.

The young boy frantically nodded his head, his eyes wide with fear.

"Now get going. And ten points from Gryffindor for that."

Hermione watched as the young boy blazed by her, watery eyes. Tom's cold eyes fell on Hermione and she looked at him, their eyes catching. Tom looked as if he was forcing himself to show composure. Hermione had a thought that he was naturally the harsh person she had just seen talking to that poor, young Gryffindor.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he greeted casually.

Hermione found her hands shaking, her palms going sweaty as he approached her.

"This way to the library," he told her calmly.

Hermione followed him without a word.

When they came to the library, Hermione's eyes widened. The library was so large and filled with books upon books. A few fifth year girls were giggling as they walked to a table with books in their hand, sitting down. A boy stood alone before a row of books while a girl was sitting at a small table by one of the windows in the nearest aisle to Tom and Hermione, reading a book with eased concentration. It was evident that not many students came here.

"There's a quiet corner over there for us to work on these things," Tom told her quietly.

Hermione felt another surge of panic as her heart sped up, beating heavily in her ears at the thought of being secluded with Tom. She wandered if Tom could hear just how hard her heart was beating. She walked with him until they turned down a row of books. There, by the window at the end of the aisle, was a small square table with two chairs and a lamp with plenty of space for books and work.

Tom sat down first, motioning for Hermione to sit down in the opposite chair. She hesitated before she sat down, watching as Tom flipped through a book on Transfiguration in his hand. She watched him carefully.

"Is the Head Boy and Head Girl supposed to be harsh to their peers?" Hermione suddenly asked with a rather rude scowl without thinking twice.

Tom froze and looked up at Hermione with a very unfriendly glare. "So she speaks." He gave her a smirk that sent a shiver down her spine. "And rather impolitely at that," he then commented darkly as he looked down at the book. He then pushed parchment, a quill, and an ink well towards Hermione, outstretching the book to her. "Read the chapter and I expect to see some useful notes. It shouldn't take you long."

_Rude_. Hermione huffed a sigh and took the book from him, seeing it read Chapter 9 for a good three pages. "We're not starting from the beginning?" she then questioned.

"I'm going to be teaching you what's necessary, Miss Granger. Now if you will excuse me, I have homework to do," Tom said, coldly again, as he took out his own parchment that was half written on and went to continue. _Probably an essay_, Hermione guessed.

Within a good forty minutes, the chapter had been read through and now Hermione was writing down the notes Tom had told her to write down.

It was odd.

She felt like she had read all of this before. Over and over again, it seemed.

She went right ahead and guessed most of what she was writing down, only to find herself correct after looking back through the chapter to prove her guesses right. When she was finished, she pushed the book back over to his side, careful not to disturb the order he had his things in. It had caused Tom to immediately stop writing, already on his second piece of parchment. He looked up at Hermione with a disdained look. When he sat his quill down, he practically tore the parchment from her hands, his eyes skimming over it quickly. Hermione then saw his eyebrows rise.

"I hadn't expect you to learn so quickly. These notes will be useful when I teach you Transfiguration in the future, so I suggest you don't lose them."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair.

Tom froze and gave her another disdained look. "Don't ever roll your eyes at me again," he said carefully slowly. The look in his eyes sent an unknown fear through Hermione. "As Head Boy, you _will_ show me respect," he demanded.

Hermione scoffed, causing an eyebrow of Tom's to rise dangerously.

"For someone who demands respect, you're impeccably detestable," she commented aloud. That was when she realized what she had just said, immediately regretting it terribly.

Just as Hermione had at least expected, she had made Tom snap. He slammed his hands down on the table, causing Hermione to jump regardless of her expectations as she watched him rise to his feet, her eyes widened. _He ha__s__ a rather short temper, d__oesn__'t he?_

Tom moved around until he rested his hand on the table and leaned down and close to Hermione, just inches away from her face as he glared into her eyes. "Listen closely, _Granger_. I am to be respected."

All she could do was sneer up at him.

"I don't care where you come from or how injured you were just yesterday or the day before, but I expect that you would be smart about what you say to me. I _will_ make your life a living hell if I have to." His voice was low, his breath brushing across her face. He smelled of mint and vanilla. Was it possible for someone she disliked so much, in the short amount of time they had known each other, to smell so good? And it was in that moment that she noticed just how..._handsome_ he was.

Maybe it was the way his black wavy hair fell over his right eyebrow, or the perfection of his ivory pale skin. Or maybe it was the way his lips were formed at his scowl which he looked to have worn so many times for it to become a permanent part of him. Or maybe Hermione was just too tired and exhausted mentally to even think straight and get her head out of the clouds for her feet to remain firmly planted on the ground.

Tom was smirking evilly down at her now, as if he knew something.

He straightened up, leaving Hermione's invaded space as he turned around and headed back to his chair. "Now. Onto Potions..."

**x x x**

The Slytherin common room was..._impressive_. It felt comfortable, regal, something Hermione couldn't believe was even real – for hers to live in. But that wasn't just it. As soon as Tom, who Hermione refused to stop talking to about anything but the first-year things he had been working with her on, had led her this far. Avery and Marcilla were giggling about something by the fire on the rug before it until they saw Hermione and Tom. Right away, they showed Hermione to her room, where her parcel of her new clothing laid on an untouched bed covered in green bedding and black wood. Hermione felt as if she were out of place. Nothing about this room was familiar. And the same went for the common room. Nothing about Slytherin, in general, felt familiar. But everything else _did_.

It was almost time for dinner and Hermione had dressed into her new clothes. Avery had happily showed Hermione to the girl's bathroom where Hermione was able to bathe and make herself presentable as all the other students were. Once dressed into her new uniform, she found it easy to tie her tie correctly, as if she had done it dozens of times before. Another familiar feeling, but she couldn't help but think..._the color. It's all wrong._

She forcibly pushed that thought aside and headed down to the Great Hall with Avery and Marcilla for dinner. Hermione sat in between the girls as everyone came in and filed to their House tables. Hermione noticed Tom sitting some people away from her on the other side, drinking whatever was in his goblet and locking eyes with her.

Immediately, Hermione looked away, feeling her cheeks redden stupdily.

"Tom tells me you're amazing at your spells at potions. Already, eh?" Avery said with excitement, giving Hermione a friendly smile.

Marcilla rolled her eyes. "Bloody hell," she murmured. Avery gave her a face, kicking Marcilla under the table and earning a barely audible yelp. Marcilla straight up end seemed to lighten a little. "I have to admit, it's a little weird that you're so good already. And Tom tells me that you're already almost done with your first year lessons," she grumbled, biting into a chicken leg.

"You talk to Tom often?" Hermione asked as she watched people fill their plates with their desired food.

Marcilla shrugged. "Of course. We go to the same orphanage."

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "Tom's a...um..."

"Orphan? Yeah." Marcilla's eyes suddenly. "Hermione, please don't tell anyone what I just told you. Tom would _not _like it one bit."

Internally, Hermione smiled, but soon that smile faded. Maybe that explained Tom's bitterness. She had no reason but to promise. "I promise," she said truthfully.

Hermione looked down at her empty plate, soon filling it with mashed potatoes, broccoli, and ham. Her goblet filled with a strange-looking liquid. She took a sip of it, tasting pumpkin.

_Pumpkin Juice_.

It tasted so familiar. Its sweet contents sparking forth a strange memory.

_Hermione must have been eleven or twelve, in the colors red and gold instead of silver and green. She was laughing with a boy who had red hair, freckles, and a mouth stuffed with food and a boy with jet black hair, glasses, and a strange-looking lightning scar on his forehead. She was **happy** as she put her goblet to her lips, saying something about how she loved "Pumpkin Juice"._

_Gryffindor?_

Hermione blinked when she heard someone calling her name.

"Hermione, you alright?" asked Avery with concern.

Hermione just shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing. "I'm fine, thank you," she said softly as she went forth and ate her supper in silence, oblivious of Tom's curious gaze.

After dinner, Hermione escaped to the library, feeling like she honestly didn't know where else to go to feel, well, _at home_.

Her hands trailed along the spines of the books in the Muggle section, seeing various novels by Muggle writers such as Hemingway, Austen, Brontë, Fitzgerald... She pulled out _Pride and Prejudice_, sitting down at the empty table nearby and curling up in the chair, resting her head along the windowpane as she read.

She didn't read though. Instead, she thought.

She thought about Dumbledore and what he had said about her being from the future.

It was possible. _Wasn't it?_

And what about Dumbledore's theory of something with dark magic and her being here for a reason?

Hermione closed the book, finding it a waste if she didn't have the attention span that evening to even read. It was her second, maybe even her third day here at Hogwarts and already it felt as if she had been here all her life. That memory earlier. It was strange. Hermione was indeed confused...at the time. But she wasn't now. Now, she was only interested in whether if it was real or not.

"What are you doing here?" came a familiar voice.

Hermione froze and looked up to find Tom Riddle leaning against the end of the book case, his arms crossed and looking at her with a scowl. He wasn't wearing his robes, but he had on his sweater vest and everything else. His white button-down shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, showing Hermione his dominant muscles that he had there. Hermione's breath caught in her throat when she found herself staring.

Tom seemed oblivious. "I thought I told you that we were done for the day."

Hermione's eyes found his, now glaring at him with a scowl. "For your information, Riddle, I'm not here for _you_," Hermione said as she got up and put the book back where she had found it.

"Really? Never took you for a reader."

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing as she went back to browsing the books.

Suddenly, Tom was close to her. Too close.

"What did I tell you about you rolling your eyes at me?" he hissed under his breath. "Are you too thick to understand what I told you _not too long _ago?"

Hermione was backing up with every step he took until she felt the edge of the table poke into her backside. She rose her chin defiantly, even if it was a stupid idea.

"You need to know your place," he grumbled, his face full of hate.

Bravery boiled up within Hermione foolishly.

Immediately, she put her hands to his chest and pushed him away from her with all of her strength as Tom staggered backwards. "How _dare_ you corner me with your threats!" she hissed. She didn't wish for them to draw any unwanted attention, but she knew that if he so much as laid a finger on her, she would scream. She felt uneasy and threatened. "For someone's who's Head Boy, you _sure_ know how to make the new girl _right _at home."

Tom looked infuriated, infuriated to the fact that Hermione was acting as if she had no control over him, pushing him away with her brave force. The girl...was surprising... _But she needs to know her God damned place, _Tom thought as he glared at her with darkened eyes.

Tom just smirked at her, and just as it did before, a shiver ran down Hermione's spine. "You know, for someone who comes off as a quiet girl, you sure have a lot of words to say." His voice was low, dark...

Hermione sucked in a breath. "That's it. I'm going to Dippet to ask for someone else to tutor me," Hermione said angrily as she moved past him only to find him reaching out and grabbing her wrist. If his hold on her wasn't as gentle as it was, she would have screamed or had drawn her wand.

She turned to Tom with fiery eyes and a scowl at her lips.

"Don't," Tom said. His voice wasn't as dark as it was before, not as dangerous...but lower.

"Forgive me...Miss Granger..." Tom looked awkward saying 'forgive me'.

Hermione sucked in another breath.

"Look, the sooner we get this tutoring done, the less you'll have to see me, understand? I'm the smartest at this school. Only I know how to tutor you at best and the quickest. With any other, you'd be stuck in tutoring for _months_," Tom explained to her quickly, taking a step closer to her. He still had his hand grasping her wrist.

Hermione hesitated before she pulled her wrist from her grip. "Fine," she said stiffly with hate as she turned around and headed to anywhere far and _away_ from Riddle.


	4. 3: Dreaming

**A/N:** Thank you, _Onesmartcookie78_, for your corrections. I appreciated them and went back to correct them. Also thank you, _Ravenclawprincess90_ for reviewing and the same goes to you, _Adware12_ and _Dodge89_. Before I go on to talk about anything else, _Onesmartcookie78_: For what you told me for your sixth correction – Oh, yes, I understand that. Just wanted June to ask if all Head Boys and Head Girls from the past and in the future are supposed to be so mean. Now, please note that any grammar mistakes or typos are entirely my fault. Without further ado, here's chapter three! Hope you all enjoy it. As always, please review!

**E****DIT****:** _THANKS BUNCHES_ to my new Beta _Onesmartcookie78_!

**x x x**

"_I don't mind where you come from,  
__as long as you come to me.  
__But I don't like illusions,  
__I can't see them clearly.  
__I don't care, no I wouldn't dare,  
__to fix the twist in you__.  
__But you've shown me,  
__eventually what you'll do.__..__"  
_

_- "All The Same" by Sick Puppies_

**x x x **

**~{ Chapter Three: Dreaming }~**

It had taken hours upon hours trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Hermione had tossed and turned in her Slytherin bed to the faint and easy breaths of Avery and Marcilla, who were very much asleep. By the time Hermione _had _fallen asleep, her heart was filled with frustration and loneliness. She didn't have a single friend here at Hogwarts. She didn't dare to call Tom anything close to a friend and it felt almost as if Avery and Marcilla were just – well, _there_. Hermione was glad she at least had girls to hang around, but she didn't have someone she could find comfort in. She prayed to Merlin that it would get easier than this soon.

She woke the following morning with a rough jolt of the bed from a cranky-looking Marcilla. Avery was just coming in, looking fresh and ready for the day. _How could someone be so...bright in the early morning? _Hermione wondered.

"Get up, I doubt you'd want to miss breakfast," Marcilla said grumpily as she padded over to her dresser, pulling out her clothes for the day.

It was the week now and Hermione had been here for a total of two full days. Today would be her third. Well, perhaps she had been here for more than two, but that was when she was injured and unconscious.

Luckily, Tom had managed to get the first year lessons out of the way within the weekend, leaving Hermione homework for preparing to start the second year lessons. Tom had been impressed with how quickly she was learning; it was as if all the knowledge sat locked away in her mind for some reason, and that made him curious.

Hermione forced herself to sit up, her eyes heavy with the sleep she had lost in those hours of tossing and turning. She could feel them, the dark purple bags under her eyes. She dragged herself out of her warm bed and proceeded to dress in her uniform even though she still had some time before she could begin her seventh year classes properly.

_It's best to just fit in, _Hermione thought to herself.

Hermione finished getting ready at the same time as Marcilla, not bothering with her hair for the day and putting it in a messy, carefree up-do instead.

She walked with the girls down to the Great Hall, which was only half-filled, something she expected happened most mornings. Plates loaded with toast and pancakes were laying on the table, people grabbing some of the contents here and there. Avery and Marcilla sat down in front of Tom this morning, dragging Hermione with them.

Tom looked as he always did – punctual and handsome. He drank a glass of orange juice while looking over a paper that Hermione recognized to be the essay she had given him just last night before curfew.

He didn't look up at the girls, but Hermione knew he was aware of their presence.

"So how have lessons with Hermione been?" asked Avery as she bit into her French toast.

Tom didn't look up from the paper. He had quill in hand, a pot of red ink in front of him and was scribbling furiously on the parchment. Hermione felt her heart drop to her stomach, feeling sick with the sudden want to explain to him that in the few hours she was given to write the essay, she had worked her hardest on it and therefore didn't deserved to be criticized as harshly as he was.

"They've been going faster than expected. I predict that by next Monday, Miss Granger will have learned all the material up to fourth year," Tom replied in a bored tone.

"Wow, that's impressive," said Avery with raised eyebrows and a big smirk sent Hermione's way.

Hermione remained silent as she grabbed some pancakes and began to eat them.

"Hermione, we're going to Hogsmeade this weekend. Do you want to come with us?" Avery suddenly asked.

Hermione heard Marcilla sigh. "Ave, that trip is supposed to be for only us," Marcilla said to Avery under her breath.

Avery just waved her words away and expectantly looking at Hermione, excitement written all over her face.

Hermione's eyebrows flew together. Hogsmeade? That was that place from her vision the other day. How coincidental...

Hermione shook her head. "Thank you, but the last thing I wish to be right now is a burden," Hermione told them softly as she grabbed her goblet and drank her orange juice, putting her attention to fresh platter of bacon that had just appeared.

Avery actually pouted. "But I really wanted to show you to The Three Broomsticks. They have this amazing drink called Butterbear. It's even nonalcoholic!" Avery said with a giggle.

Marcilla rolled her eyes.

Hermione honestly didn't want to travel beyond the walls at the moment, almost as though she wouldn't be safe unless behind them, "Thank you, but I'm sure I'll be fine here."

Avery let out a disappointed sigh. "I'm going to try and change your mind over the week, you know," she challenged.

Hermione let out a small, natural smile. "We'll see," is all she said.

Tom looked up from the essay at the three girls, his eyes stopping on Hermione for a moment, then sliding back down to the essay.

**x x x  
**

Hermione received her essay without a word towards Tom, despite the fact that all the red ink she saw angered her beyond no words. She tucked it away in her book bag, a present from Dumbledore (who had said something about how it had never been retrieved from the lost and found) and gave Tom her full attention.

"Tomorrow I'll take you to the greenhouse," he said as he started handing Hermione books. "These are my old books, you may have them since I have no use for them anymore," Tom said as he then motioned to Hermione's quill and parchment. "Right then. Now, I want you to turn that book into a goblet and then I want you to fill it with water."

In a way, the task seemed too hard for a second year, but Hermione accepted the challenge.

She didn't even have to say it, all she needed was the book to turn into a goblet. And when she took out her wand and flicked it without muttering a word, the book turned into a silver goblet. Next, she murmured, "_Aguamenti_." The goblet filled with water and with a smug smile, Hermione looked over at Tom.

Tom just shook his head. "Impressive," she heard him murmur.

After the lessons for that day, Tom silently escorted her to the Dining Hall for dinner where Avery and Marcilla were asked more questions about how she was coming along on her lessons.

"I honestly feel she already knows everything – she'll do well when she starts her normal classes," Tom said while he ate, refusing to look at the three girls as usual.

Hermione felt her cheeks redden at his near-compliment. She chewed her chicken carefully and soon headed to the Slytherin common room. She went to bed when the other girls did, curling up and trying to locate a comfortable position, but still couldn't find peace.

She eventually gave up, getting out of bed and slipping her feet into her slippers. She wrapped a robe around her body to cover her short nightgown as she made her way out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the common room.

She needed to walk.

Her mind felt so crowded when really, it was empty. She felt like there were millions and millions of thoughts struggling for her attention, but she couldn't acknowledge any of them.

The halls were dimly lit, empty, and eerie. She wrapped her arms around herself as she wandered. Suddenly, another memory came to mind.

_Hermione couldn't haven been 12. She was small and determined, strutting down a dark hallway of Hogwarts with the lightning-scarred boy and the freckled red head behind her._

_Ron?_

_Harry?_

_Ron, the red head, was holding a lamp, talking about how worried he was that they'd get caught. Hermione shushed him as Harry, the lightning-scarred boy, sighed._

"Miss Granger?" Came a voice from the end of the hallway.

The memory slipped away and she stopped in her movements. She turned her head and found Tom walking over to her with a very unhappy expression.

_Oh, no_. Hermione only then realized how stupid she was for being out after curfew.

Tom waited to speak further until he had stopped a few feet away from Hermione. For a moment, Hermione considered running. That would be foolish. _There's no doubt he'd be faster than me, _Hermione then thought as she turned her body to fully face him, looking up at him with wary eyes.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Tom questioned angrily.

Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach. "Why aren't _you_?"

Tom scowled at her. "I'm Head Boy."

_Oh._

"Now, care to explain why you're out after curfew?" Tom asked next, his tone a little lighter.

Hermione hesitated. "I couldn't sleep," she answered quietly.

"That seems to be happening a lot to you lately," he then thought aloud, his face now showing his confusion. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Hermione scoffed. "I won't tell you squat, Riddle," she said boldly as she moved closer to the wall to get away from him and to the Slytherin common room.

Suddenly, Hermione was being pushed into the wall, Tom's way of stopping her from escaping him. He pinned her wrists down at her sides, her robe falling open to expose her skimpy nightgown. Her cheeks burned as she watched his eyes rake down her form.

"You either talk to me about it or I'll treat you like everyone else and give you a detention."

Hermione tried to breathe, but Tom was so close. Her eyes never left his as her bottom lip began quivering nervously. To stop it from shaking, she had to take it between her teeth. Tom immediately caught the motion and Hermione watched as desire flashed in his dark eyes.

_But his eyes weren't exactly dark_. They were hazel.

A thousand words ran through her head, but she didn't dare let them free. She felt nervous, threatened, _confused_.

"Tell me," he said darkly.

Hermione stared defiantly up at him, her jaw tightened. She could have sworn her heart was beating loud enough for Tom to hear.

Tom's eyes searched her features, suddenly smirking at her, causing her stomach to swoop. "Nervous, are we?"

Hermione still remained silent.

He was so close that she could catch the faint scent of him. Spice...and vanilla. It was deathly to her, causing unwanted scenarios to run through her mind as something swirled excitedly within her. Her imagination was wild tonight.

"And...you fancy me," Tom pointed out with a wide, evil smirk. Her stomach swooped again.

"No. I hate you," Hermione corrected him.

The hallway echoed with his dark, soft chuckle, sending a shiver down Hermione's spine. "You're like an open book, Hermione. You may think you hate me...but I know that deep down, you are attracted to me," Tom said with a smug smirk. It angered Hermione.

"It's no surprise. There's not a female in this pathetic place that isn't attracted to me."

"Blundering fool," Hermione said as she tried to pry her wrists from his grip. She was cornered, still pinned to the wall. "You must be delusional to think that I'd be attracted to you in any way, shape or form. Either that or you have a massive ego. Come to think of it, I feel like I'm suffocating," Hermione said with venom.

Tom only smirked further, as if he saw this to be foreplay. That caused Hermione to panic.

Suddenly, Tom was leaning closer to her. Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as she stared back at Tom, her chest heaving in quick, short pants the closer he drew. Her eyes closed, but not of her own accord as she awaited his next action.

_A careful, clever game of cat and mouse. Push and pull. Give and take. _That's what this was.

She didn't expect what he did next. She felt pressure on her forehead accompanied by the warmth of Tom's skin. He was leaning his forehead against hers. Her eyes opened for a second to see his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. Gently, he let go of her hands, letting them drop limply to her sides as he put his hands on each side of her head on the wall to support his weight as he leaned into her.

"Hermione," he whispered.

It was the first time he had said her first name and to be honest, she _loved _it.

_This isn't right, _Hermione couldn't help thinking_. I haven't even known him for that long._

_So what? _A part of her whispered.

Hermione softly sighed, forcing herself to calm down.

Abruptly, Tom lifted a hand from the wall and pressed it to her heart. His hands were cold, forcing a shiver out of Hermione once more.

"Your heart is beating madly," he murmured.

"So it is," she whispered back.

Somehow, this was soothing. Hours lost of sleeping were finally beginning to creep up on her. She'd fall asleep right now if she allowed herself to.

"I want to learn more about you," Tom said.

Hermione softly shook her head. "I want to learn more about me too," she said with a sad and faint chuckle.

Tom finally pulled away, both of their eyes opening to look at each other. "You still don't remember anything?" he then asked. Was that concern in his eyes?

Hermione shrugged. "Honestly, all I know what to tell you is that it's complicated. I-" she sighed, feeling tears begin to well up behind her eyes, "I feel like I don't belong here, Tom." She thought she'd use his first name in turn of him using hers.

Tom just looked at her with bewilderment. "Hermione, you have no idea how curious I am about you."

Hermione scoffed. "I thought you disliked me."

Tom scowled, his emotional defenses going back up as before. "I never said such a silly thing. You're...very different, Miss Granger." Miss Granger again? "What if you're from the future?" He mused excitedly.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, instinctively keeping quiet about what Dumbledore had told her.

He still had his hand over her heart, which now slid up to the side of her neck, cupping it gently. Her skin covered in goose bumps, another shiver running down her spine.

"I think I should try and sleep again," she said as she closed her eyes.

Yes. She was very tired.

"I'll escort you back," Tom quickly said.

When they made it to the Slytherin entrance, Tom stopped Hermione before she left him. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

Hermione gave him a tiny, tired smile. "I'll think about it." She spoke the password and disappeared through the door, wobbling to bed with a weight only tiredness could induce. A weight she had previously been lacking.

_Tom did this, _Hermione reasoned as she plopped down in bed. _He calmed me down_. And Hermione hated to admit it. He was so rude, ill-tempered, arrogant, conceited...but still. He made her feel the most at home she had felt since she arrived here.

**x x x**

Hermione was dreaming. She had to be because she was somewhere she didn't know and she wasn't...exactly herself. She was still Hermione, but... _changed_. Almost as if she had gotten all of her memories back and was acting the way she should.

Tom had her pinned to a wall, his hungry lips probing against hers possessively, his arms wound around her while her legs were wrapped around his hips, holding him tightly.

She felt...happy, but _confused_.

She was kissing Tom.

And she was enjoying it.

A little too much.

Hermione woke early that morning, all of the other girls still dreaming whilst she became aware of the dull ache between her legs. She quietly groaned as she buried her face into her pillow. _It was only a dream of kissing Tom and she was sexually aroused._

She couldn't even remember if she was virgin or not.

_Surely Tom was just playing with me last night, _Hermione couldn't help but assure herself as she rolled over to her other side, found a comfortable position, and forced herself back to sleep in the remaining two hours she had before she'd have to get up and get ready for breakfast.

_She'd never be able to look at Tom the same what with the combination of her dream and how he had treated her last night_.


	5. 4: Mudblood

**A/N: **So, a wonderful thanks to my Beta, _Onesmartcookie78_. Sorry it took so long to update. Things have been crazy! I got hit with a bad cold that requires me to die every 9 hours and I've been stuck on my other side projects.

**Thank you to **_Adware12_**,** _InlovewithTVD4ever_**,** _sheddngeverycolor_**,** _Dodge'89_**,** _wewearmask_**, ****and **_EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire_. **for reviewing!**

**x x x**

"_Taste me, drink my soul.  
Show me all the things,  
__T__hat I shouldn't know.  
__And there's a new moon on the rise.  
__I had everything,  
__Opportunities for eternity,  
__And I could belong to the night__...__"_

_- "Make Me Wanna Die" by The Pretty Reckless_

**x x x**

**~{ Chapter Four: Mudbood }~**

A bead of sweat trickled down Hermione's temple as she let out a slow and low sigh. She was sitting in the bath, letting her skin turn red from the temperature of the soapy water. Across the way, three girls were washing themselves, laughing at something that happened in one of their classes. Hermione watched them, feeling left out.

Avery and Marcilla were at the sinks, drying and styling their hair so they wouldn't have to worry about it tomorrow morning.

Hermione tried to push her mind away from loneliness, finding herself thinking about Tom again.

_Tom_, Hermione swooned inside of her head where no one could hear her.

Merlin, he had been _so _close to kissing her. _The way his hand felt upon her skin_. She wanted him to touch her again. She hated to admit it, but she did. She really did. The dull ache came back in between her legs as she thought of the way he had pinned her to the wall, and the way he had kissed her in her dreams. She wondered what it would be like if he kissed her in real life.

_Had she ever been kissed before?_

What bothered her most was that she didn't know if she was a virgin or not.

The three girls got out, wrapping their bodies in towels and heading to the sinks to deal with their hair. All of the girls seemed to be the same in that aspect.

Hermione looked down at herself, an idea coming to mind.

The bath's bubbles had her body completely hidden.

_No one would notice._

Underwater, she moved her hand – which had been laying randomly on her stomach – to rest between her legs. Her heart raced, feeling like this wasn't the wisest thing to do when there were others around. _I'm covered_, she reminded herself. Carefully, she inserted a finger in her opening. How she knew about what went into sex, she couldn't remember.

She was beginning to think she wasn't a virgin when her train of thought stopped. A dull sting came from her trying to insert a second finger. _I'm a virgin and I don't even know whether to be happy or disappointed_. Her mind immediately went back to Tom and how she had seen that _desire _in his eyes. He wanted her. She knew he wanted her.

"See you at dinner," Avery and Marcilla said warmly as they passed by her and left the bathroom.

Hermione gave them a small smile and sighed, loosely crossing her arms beneath her breasts underwater.

Suddenly, an itch came about on her left forearm. She sighed and uncrossed her arms, her right hand going to itch when she felt something.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked down just as she raised her left arm above the surface of the water.

What she saw made her heart drop into her stomach and all the color to drain from her face, despite how red her skin was from the water.

_**Mudblood **_was carved sloppily all down the length of her left arm, the word facing her so she could see it.

Tears were prickling at her eyes as a sudden, painful memory came forth in her mind.

_Hermione was pinned to the wooden floor of a manor, the sleeve of her jacket on her left arm pulled up. Pain was searing through her arm as a blade scratched against it, drawing blood and a permanent 'M'. She screamed, she tried to kick, she cried, she did whatever she could to try and break free from this torture, but nothing worked. The woman above her, a woman with wild black hair and dark, crazy eyes, smiled down at her, screaming words but they were muffled._

"_I don't know!" Hermione screamed._

She was scared.

_Scared as fuck._

And the pain was inevitable.

She wanted it to end.

_She wished the woman would just kill her, just end her life then and there._

Hermione looked around the bathroom, hoping, praying to Merlin, that nobody saw. Tears were crawling their way down her cheeks as she bit the inside of her cheek.

How in fucking hell didn't she notice this before?

Judging by the scarring, it had to be _months _old. She knew she had gotten it back when she still had her memories, whatever those memories are, of course.

She waited until she was completely alone in the bathroom before she got out, dried herself off, and dressed, leaving for dinner quickly.

**x x x**

Hermione sat between Avery and Marcilla who were talking about something that had happened in Quidditch. She stared down at her food, which was going cold, picking at it half-heartedly. She had lost her appetite the moment she had seen her arm.

She wore her long sleeved sweater, adding on her robes due to the feeling that her arm wasn't concealed enough. It _still _didn't feel like it was concealed enough. She kept scratching at it, desperate not the grab any attention.

She was still shaking.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione glanced up from her plate to Tom. The boy next to him, Abraxas Malfoy, looked like he had been in mid-conversation with Tom as he looked at Hermione.

"Hmm?"

Tom gave her a confused look. "Are you well?"

Hermione nodded her head too soon. "Perfectly fine, thank you, Tom."

Avery and Marcilla looked to Hermione, their attention obviously caught on Hermione calling him by his first name.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes landing on her right hand, which sat itching her arm.

Hermione pushed her plate away. "I had a big lunch. I think I'll go to bed early. Goodnight," Hermione told the ones watching her as she pushed her plate away and got to her feet, walking out of the Great Hall, oblivious to the curious stares from Dumbledore and Tom.

When Hermione got to the Slytherin common room, she sat down on the sofa facing the fire. She gazed at it for a long time, her mind blank and her arm feeling too fidgety. She remained like that until the door to the common room opened and in came Tom.

"Hermione," he murmured to her as he walked over to her and sat down beside her.

Hermione didn't acknowledge him as she continued to stare at the fire.

Abruptly, he grabbed her chin, forcing her head to turn to the side so that she was looking up at him.

"What is wrong? Something's wrong." He sounded desperate to know, curious.

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed slightly, her memory coming back to the pain as he gripped her chin.

Suddenly, she was writhing, roughly pushing him away from her and yanking her chin from her grasp. She got to her feet.

"Don't _touch _me!" she yelled as she took a few steps away from the sofa. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling insecure.

Tom looked alarmed. "Hermione," he began, but she had cut him off.

"Just don't touch me," she said in a quivering voice as she shook her head.

Tom stared at her, his eyes widened from her violent outburst. "Hermione..." he started calmly. "Was it a memory?"

Hermione said nothing as she turned her back to him, facing the fire as she stared hard at the flames. She felt angry, scared, alone, sad... She didn't want to feel these things. She didn't want to one bit.

Now came the tears.

She was feeling too many ranges of emotions that she couldn't hold back the tears. She sobbed softly, her shoulders shaking.

And there were arms wrapping around her almost warily. Tom's arms. They snaked around her, pulling her to his chest as she forced herself to turn around and try to fight him off. She beat at his chest, trying to push him away. But all she got were more tears and muscles too weak to resist anymore. She collapsed against him, wrapping her arms around him in desperation.

Then she felt Tom grab her left arm, gently enough that she didn't pull away. _Couldn't pull away_. She took a step back as she watched him look down at her arm, pulling her sleeves back. He froze as he looked down at her scarred arm.

Hermione looked up at his features, searching for some emotion, but all she found was nothing. A blank stare.

And then suddenly, he let go of her, rather roughly.

Hermione staggered back, grabbing the mantelpiece for support as she pushed her sleeves back down, her eyes going back to Tom.

Tom had his back to her.

"You didn't tell me you were Muggle-born." He sounded dangerous, causing a flicker of panic to rise in Hermione's chest.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. He didn't bother asking how she got it, why she got it, and who had done it. He was only worried about the fact that she was a Muggle-born, which Hermione knew wasn't something to be proud of most of the time. Though she couldn't help but feel that she _was _proud of her heritage.

"I didn't know I was." Hermione's voice was small, fragile.

Tom said nothing as he left the common room.

Hermione stood there, looking at where Tom had been. Was he angry at her? Would he never speak to her again.

When she had been looking at the fire, that moment when their arms had been wrapped around one another, she had felt _better_. But now that was ruined due to a fucking _scarred arm _reading _**Mudblood**_.

Hermione hurried to where she knew she'd be alone – the girl's lavatory. She hid in a stall, sat down on the toilet and cried hard.

**x x x**

"You wished to see me, Professor?" Hermione asked as she poked her head into the Transfiguration classroom.

Dumbledore sat at his desk, writing something when he looked up at Hermione and gave her a smile. "Ah, Miss Granger, come here."

Hermione warily walked over to Dumbledore, wondering why he wanted to talk to her this morning.

_What if Tom told him about my scars?_

_What if Tom asked for me to get a new tutor?_

_What if..._

Dumbledore held up something strange in his hand. It looked to be a necklace at first, but then Hermione saw that in the middle of the golden pendant sat an hourglass.

"Does this look familiar to you, Miss Granger?'

Hermione stared at it, nodding. "What's it called?"

"Do you have any guesses?"

Hermione tried to think, but only ended up shaking her head. "No."

Dumbledore looked at the necklace and then back at Hermione. "It's called a Time-Turner, Miss Granger."

_Time-Turner_. It sounded so familiar that it drove Hermione mad, but she couldn't recall _anything_.

"A Time-Turner is a very rare, precious device, Miss Granger. It takes you back in time, but for no more than twenty-four hours. When messed with or damaged though, it can cause a great deal of problems."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows as she sat down in the closest desk to Dumbledore's. "What are you trying to say, Professor?"

Dumbledore put the necklace away, hidden under his robes. "What I'm saying is that I think that you had it and something bad happened to it to force you to sit before me right now, with barely any memories."

Hermione's heart picked up in speed.

What Dumbledore was saying..._made absolute sense_.

"But I have other theories."

Hermione's eyebrows rose and she took in a short breath in anticipation of his words.

"There are some _very _powerful, unknown spells out there dealing with shoving a person back in time. It's fatal to the person being put back in time so far, which would have explained the position Tom had found you in. Not to mention, there are countless potions out there that when mixed with others, can create a time portal to the past. Like the spells, it is also fatal to the person." He sat back in his chair, folding his hands before him. "There are so many ways you could have gotten here, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded her head as she looked down at the wood of the desk she sat at, worried for herself.

"Hermione."

Hermione turned back to Dumbledore.

"You must promise to keep this between us. If anyone else knew this, word may get around and bad things will happen to you."

Hermione nodded her head. "I understand professor."

Dumbledore nodded his head once to show that he believed her. "Now. Onto another matter. About Tom..."

Hermione sighed. "He found out I was muggle-born, Professor. I'm so-"

"He told me earlier that he had invited you to Hogsmeade?"

Hermione froze. She had thought that Tom was still mad at her.

"Y-yes, Professor."

"Well, I trust Tom that he will keep you safe should something happen – which I doubt anything will. But if you wish to remain here, I understand."

Hermione nodded her head softly. "I...I just need to talk it over with Tom is all," Hermione said as she forced a smile.

Dumbledore nodded his head, now looking at her over his spectacles. "Is there anything you wish to tell me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione wanted to tell him about the scars, about the memories she had, but she couldn't bring herself to telling him, regardless of the knowledge that she _should _tell him. "No, Professor."

"Right then. Well, I shall see you soon, I hope. Enjoy your day."

"Thanks."

Hermione got to her feet, not realizing she was shaking violently right now. She managed to walk out of the room without giving Dumbledore a hint that something was wrong, and headed to the library to kill time until Tom would meet her for her lessons.

She found an aisle deserted and quiet, sitting down at one of the chairs and taking out the current books she and Tom were working on. She pulled out the Divination book, scowling at the fact she had to read it, and began looking through it as Tom had requested a few days ago. She wondered what would happen when she saw him today.

Would he still be angry, indifferent towards her? Would he act like nothing happened?

Hermione knew she couldn't just think that everything would be sunshine and rainbows, that everything was going to be okay and that Tom would accept her regardless of her blood status... but she secretly wished it _would _be that way.

She chose to skip lunch, remaining in the library and ignoring her hunger as she read her books. Everything was as familiar as she had expected, which allowed her to read through her books even faster.

Finally, Tom came.

Feeling nervous, Hermione kept quiet, watching as he sat down beside her and began unpacking his parchment, ink, and quill for Hermione.

She eyed him carefully. He was acting like he had the first day that they had met – blank. All of his defenses were up and Hermione doubted that she'd be able to knock them back down anytime soon.

"I made some worksheets that I'd like you to fill out. Consider this a quiz. I assume you've read through your books."

Hermione nodded and watched as Tom pulled something square wrapped in a green and silver cloth from his robes pocket, and pushed it over to her. "I didn't see you at lunch. You need to eat so you can stay focused for this lesson. I'd like you to last until dinner so we can get the third year lessons out of the way," he grumbled as he handed her a piece of parchment covered in his handwriting – more problems for her to solve.

"Twenty minutes should be enough."

Hermione remained quiet as she took his quill and began on the worksheet. All the while, she felt so disappointed on the inside. She would much rather he'd yell at her then to treat her as he did on their first day...but Hermione knew that even that would even too much to ask for.


	6. 5: What You Asked For

**A/N:** Another thanks to _Onesmartcookie78_ for being awesome to be my Beta! Now for _The-Starlight-Crystal_'s review about chapter two: I fixed it! I didn't realize I had made it so he already knew, but thank you kindly for letting me know so I could correct it. And to _icecreamy_: It's the same guy that played Tom Riddle in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Christian Coulson. It's just him as Jolly Forsyte from the Forsyte Saga. I'm so thankful for the reviews, guys! It really means a lot to me that you guys are liking this story so much. Just a warning – obviously, Hermione and Tom's relationship is going to be unhealthy (well, it already is, but I meant boyfriend-girlfriend wise) and I'd like to make sure I just point that out to you before you read on.

**Thank you to** _EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire_**,** _Dodge'89_**,** _The-Starlight-Crystal_**,** _kraco_**,** _Wewearmask_**,** _a guest_**,** _icecreamy__**, **__LCB_**, and **_sherriithewinter_ **for reviewing!**

**x x x**

"_I wanna be in your control,  
So unmerciful.  
__You can twist me and turn me,  
__Just don't let me go.  
__I wanna be your puppet __on a string.  
__Baby, I'm not holding back,  
__We can do anything.  
__And even if I am crazy,  
__It's__'__cause you make me this way.__"__  
_

_- "Marionette" by Antonia_

**x x x**

**~{ Chapter Five: What You Asked For }~**

Tom was quiet, distant, and Hermione dared not say anything that she knew would set him off. She knew he was acting this way because of him finding out she was Muggle-born, but she was just thankful that he continued to tutor her. She couldn't imagine being tutored by anyone else. Tom's silence had gone on for weeks. At first, Hermione didn't like it, then she grew used to it...comfortable with it. But now, it was beginning to make her feel insecure and hopeless.

No more memories had come to her.

Before, they had come to her on a regular basis, but now there was nothing.

In a way, she felt like Tom was to blame for this; like he was her trigger. They didn't speak about anything but school work.

To make matters worse, Dippet had decided that Hermione wasn't fit to start her normal classes yet, and had ordered Tom to go a bit slower with his lessons. She hated it. She was sick and tired of feeling so out of place and left out.

Winter was just around the corner and Quidditch games were close to ending for the school year. Hermione hadn't gone to a single one of them, regardless of the fact that Tom was Seeker for the Slytherin team.

One day, Hermione was alone in the Slytherin common room alone, sitting on the floor by the window to watch the rain fall heavy outside. She could feel the chill from the weather, seeping in through the cracks in the window and going straight though her thick Slytherin sweater, but she ignored her shivers. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling homesick, regardless of the fact that she didn't know where 'home' was.

Tomorrow, she would be starting her normal classes. Of course she was nervous, but she refused to think that anything bad could possibly happen. '_I'm smart. I'll do just fine_,' Hermione told herself.

The sound of someone coming through the entrance caught Hermione's attention, but she didn't look away from the window. She knew who it was from the silence and the footsteps against the stone floor.

She finally turned her head to look up at Tom.

Tom stood there, staring down at her by the couch, his expression as unreadable as ever. He noticed the sadness and discomfort that hung around her, feeling an iota of concern for the slightest moment, but that passed.

"I thought that only purebloods were Sorted into Slytherin," Hermione murmured to break the ugly silence.

Tom scowled at her. "I'd rather not talk about this," he grumbled as he turned his back to her, walking away.

"Well too bad," Hermione said as she got to her feet and dusted the dirt from her skirt. Tom had turned around in time to catch a glimpse of her thigh. His throat tightened. She walked over to him, a very dejected expression set to her features.

Tom said nothing as if he waited for Hermione to continue.

Hermione sucked in a breath, her voice coming out in a tremble. "No memories have come to me since you stopped talking to me."

"I didn't stop talking to you."

"Yes you did." She shook her head and looked away. "You may consider our conversations about your lessons and my essays 'talking', but I don't count that as anything. We used to bicker like an old married couple," she pointed out. "And as much as I can't _stand _to say it," she paused and licked her lips, her throat going dry. She knew nothing good was going to come out of this, "I miss the way we were."

It was true. Hermione hated to admit it because it scared her. _He _scared her. He was so rough and rude, mean, and conceited. She knew she had already established those qualities about him, but regardless, she had come to find him...

She had come to find him...as close to home a home as one could since she had woken up in the Hospital Wing.

She was desperate.

She wanted to feel something, that's what it was. She wanted to feel something even if it was pain or anger towards Tom. So she decided to go through with provoking him because he remained there, quiet and unreadable.

"You're so _thick _to be prejudiced against me being Muggle-born." She watched as she earned a flicker of anger in his hazel eyes. "I didn't choose this. This wasn't something I planned. I was _born _this way whether you like it or not."

She watched as his expression turned incited with fury. She was pissing him off.

_Good._

"You left me here when you found out. As far as I can remember, I had never felt so alone before. And it was because of _you_." She pointed an accusing index finger at him.

He was beginning to shake softly with his control. His top lip curled inwards, his sneer.

"You know what? I actually believed you _liked _me before you found out. I thought you _cared_." She spun on her heel to irritate him further and threw over her shoulder, "How could I have been so foolish as to want to waste time on someone like you?"

That had been enough.

Tom lunged forward and roughly grabbed her wrist, forcing her around to face him. His hold on her wrist was bruising, but she welcomed it. She tilted her chin up defiantly.

"You insolent little _witch_," he growled. "You have _no right _to talk to me like that. How _dare _you!" Hermione watched the dangerous fire ignite in his eyes.

What came next was definitely not what Hermione had expecting. Her cheek suddenly stung harshly as her head swirled to the side from the connection of Tom's palm on her cheek. Her body tensed, going still. Her breath caught in her throat from the shock of the blow.

Suddenly, Hermione regretted her actions took in a deep, slow breath, fighting the burning in her eyes from the sting in her cheek. She would have run if he hadn't still been gripping her wrist.

"You will always be a Mudblood, Hermione Granger."

Hermione's voice was the shakiest it had ever been. "Should I go kill myself then?"

That question had taken Tom back by to much of a surprise. Anger left his face, replaced with shock.

"_How dare you say that_," he spat angrily as the hand that had slapped grasped her chin and forced her to look up at him.

Hermione glared at him, as defiant as ever. She took her bottom lip between her teeth to stop it from trembling.

He let go of her chin and suddenly pulled her into him. "You're going to learn your place," he said threateningly.

A warning light blinked in Hermione's mind. What did he mean? Tears threatened release even more as she marveled at how her body molded to his perfectly. _No, don't think about that._

Where was everyone?

Where were people when you needed them?

_Oh, that's right_.

Everyone was at dinner.

A dinner that Hermione honestly felt she could skip.

Suddenly, he was leading her away, up the stairs and towards the boy's dorm.

He wanted privacy. Why did he want privacy? Her heart was beating in her ears madly, panicking. What was he going to do to her?

Once they were in his room, he closed the door behind them, locking it and casting a silencing charm on the room.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, her voice still shaky.

Suddenly, Tom was at her, pulling at her tie, loosening it and dropping it to the floor. Next, he was pulling her sweater above her head, off and dropping it with her tie. He was undressing her and she was too paralyzed with fear and panic to refuse him.

But something snapped in her when he went for the buttons of her oxford.

She grabbed his wrists, trying to pull them away.

"_What are you doing_?"

He said nothing as he let go of her and pulled his wand out, waving it at her. Suddenly, she felt like she had no energy to move. She was standing, but she felt as if she was too weak to really do anything.

"The less you struggle, the easier it will be for you," he said darkly.

_Damn bastard!_

Hermione was crying now. Tears were falling down her cheeks as she watched Tom undress her. She knew what he was going to do. He was going to _rape _her. And she was terrified, shaking, trembling, scared. She didn't want this. She didn't want to lose her virginity like this. She didn't want to have to sleep with such a fucking asshole.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," she heard him whisper once her oxford joined her sweater and tie on the floor. Those words stirred a sensation deep down within Hermione. It was unwelcoming.

He urged her back until she felt the edge of the bed at her knees. She cried harder now, as she was forced down onto the bed. He took her flats off, now working at the zipper on her skirt.

"_Tom, p-please_," she said as she sobbed. His gaze locked on hers briefly before continuing to rake over her form whilst he undressed her.

"Don't make me silence you," he threatened. Hermione didn't know if it was her imagination, but she thought she heard a tremble in his voice.

Regardless, Hermione was too frightened, so she shut up, but her sobs didn't cease. She felt her body tremble and shake, but she still could hardly move. She was too physically exhausted to shift. It scared her.

Hermione looked at him as he stood at the end of the bed, staring down at her naked form. She felt exposed, ashamed of herself. But the hunger and desire she saw in his eyes...stirred something within her once more.

The cold air of the room hit her exposed skin, causing her to shiver. She closed her eyes. Her sobs had stopped, but tears were still falling.

She opened her eyes again to see him taking his blazer off, then his tie, and then his shirt. She watched him tilt from side to side at a time, taking his shoes and socks off. And then his belt. Left in nothing but his underwear, he crawled on top of her. For a moment, he just stared down at her wet face. He put a hand to her one red cheek and softly wiped the tears there away.

And then he claimed her mouth. His kiss was powerful, possessive, horrifically beautiful. It was the way his soft lips pressed upon hers with dignity, the way his tongue slipped between her lips to tangle with hers. She could feel the heat of his breath, the wetness of his own tongue. _Merlin_, it felt so right.

He suddenly grasped a breast roughly, pinching a nipple until it was as hard as a bead. She cried out.

_Stop, please stop this, make it stop..._

His hand that was at her breast slowly prodded downwards, grasping her curves, sliding down her hips seductively, and then slipping in between her legs. Instantly, Hermione's legs tried to close, but Tom stopped them by positioning himself so that he was between her legs, keeping them open. Only then did he continue.

Hermione let out a whimper when she felt his finger slip between her folds.

"Well, well, well...what do we have here, Hermione?" he whispered to her seductively, his lips at her ear. "You're actually _wet _for me. This might be easier for you than I had planned."

She felt him touch a finger to her clit. Instantly, a shaking jolt of pleasure shot through her and her body jerked along with it. She had no means for a moan to escape. His touch was soft, gentle, almost as if he wasn't sure the amount of pressure to give...and Hermione hated the fact that she wanted _more_.

Stroking her clit had her mind busied beyond the point that he had his hardened cock aiming at her opening. When he entered her, she screamed. Blotches of pain radiated throughout her as she cried, feeling him fill her up.

_Too much._

_Too much_.

Tom leaned over and pressed his lips to her. He had entered her quickly, wanting to get it over and done with, but now he remained still, all the way inside of her. He wanted her to get used to him. Hermione was sobbing as she found herself kissing the monster back.

Tom stroked her hair, more to sooth her than anything. He straightened his back, looking down at Hermione, who was sprawled across the blanket, her hands grasping the blanket loosely, but as tight as she could at the moment. Her sobs had stopped and her tears fell silently, her eyes closed.

Tom grasped her breast again, but softer this time. Hermione gasped when he lent down and flicked a tongue over her sensitive bud.

Tom began to move.

At first, it was pain. She felt sore as he pulled out and pushed back in slowly. But then there was pleasure. More than she had ever experienced before. Tom was rubbing against her G-Spot a little too perfectly, as her breath turned heavy and slow, sweat forming at her body. Something inside her began to tighten up. Her orgasm, which she hadn't expected to come to her so quickly.

"Fuck, you feel so good, darling, _so tight_," Tom murmured.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly to see Tom with his head arched back, his adams apple showing as his perfect hips met with hers every two seconds. Tom was so beautiful. He had muscles formed into his porcelain skin.

Fuck, he looked sexy.

_What am I doing?_

At first, this had began as rape for Hermione, but now, Hermione wanted him to go rougher, _faster_...but she dared not to tell him that. If she did, he'd win more than he would already with her coming for him. It was inevitable seeing as her orgasm was already building up so fast. She kept expecting to reach her climax, but it only continued to build.

Tom let out a slow moan.

A moan that made her shiver.

And then she was coming. She was coming too quick, she realized. This was supposed to last longer. This was her first time. Maybe it was his first time too. Wasn't the first time supposed to be lasting?

Tom sucked in a breath as he felt Hermione's walls quake around him. "That's right, darling. Come for me. That's it. So good. Oh, fuck yes. So sweet," he murmured quickly as he leaned down and claimed her mouth hungrily. His tongue snaked against hers as his pace picked up. Soon, he was pounding in and out of her. She could feel him shaking above her, and guessed that he was holding on for as long as he could.

And then it happened.

Tom stopped kissing her and buried his face in between her shoulder and neck, groaning as his hips came to a standstill. Hermione felt his warm seed enter her.

Tom remained like that for a while, breathing heavily into her neck. But after that moment had flown away, he pulled out of her slowly. Hermione groaned at the soreness of him leaving her and soon, he flipped over to his back beside her, breathing quickly.

Hermione's strength finally returned to her and everything had hit her at once.

Tom had just taken her virginity.

The Tom who had harassed her, threatened her.

The Tom who had left her all alone in the common room when he found out of her heritage.

The Tom who had...who had _saved _her life...who had tutored her into being able to join with the other students finally.

Tom had fucked her and she was already assuming that it meant nothing to him.

_You're going to learn your place_.

A loud sob erupted from Hermione's lips. She raised a hand to cover her mouth, her eyes shutting as loud, desperate sobs left second after second. She turned her back to him, curling up into a ball as she felt his seed ooze out of her.

"Please don't do that." Tom's voice was soft...kind...it only confused her. He sounded almost...confused.

It didn't stop the rickety sobs.

Hermione felt the bed shift and then his arms were around her, comforting her. Her bare back to his bare chest, felt..._amazing_. Not in a sexual way, but in a comforting, relaxing way. It still wasn't enough to help Hermione with her crying.

"You monster," had escaped Hermione's lips as she hid her face from him.

Hermione felt Tom's arms stiffen around her, but it was no use.

"Who else knows you're a Mudblood?"

Hermione wished he wouldn't call her that.

"Just you, Dumbledore, and Dippet," Hermione said shakily, confused as to why he was asking her this.

"Good. Because you are mine now."

Hermione let out a crazy laugh with her sobs. _His_. What was that, his way of calling her his girlfriend? It was silly, stupid, and it made Hermione hate him all the more.

Tom let go of her, leaving the cold air to chill her sweaty body. "You'd better get dressed. I'm taking you down to dinner."

"No."

"You will do as I say," Tom said in a strong voice that made Hermione feel like she should cower. Why did this man frighten her so much, besides of the wrongs he had done to her?

Hermione peeked at Tom, who was just buttoning up his trousers. He looked angry but thoughtful. "You need to eat something."

Hermione forced herself to sit up and stared over at where her clothes laid on the floor. Tom leaned down and picked them up, tossing them over to her. "Come on. Hurry. Dinner's almost over and I'd like to get you a plate of food before everyone leaves."

Hermione struggled to dress. She was staring at her skirt in her hands, wishing she had her wand when Tom came over, his own wand in hand. He waved it at her lower body and suddenly, Hermione felt a sensation. Soon, all stickiness, blood anything left from the sex, was gone. Hermione said nothing to him, dared not to say 'thank you', as she slid into her panties and her skirt. She put on her stockings and finished dressing, following Tom out the door with her hand trapped in his. He had given her wand back to her, which was safely resting in the pocket of her robes.


	7. 6: Trip to Hogsmeade

**A/N:** As always, a big thanks to my beta _Onesmartcookie78_! Things are crazy. But I just want you guys to know that I won't give up on this story – I have a whole bunch of future surprises for you guys. So just, _please_, be patient. And to _dracioisforever_: I have a beta. _Onesmartcookie78_. And I'm also on Granger Enchanted.

Hope you guys enjoy the update!

**Thank you to **_nathaliie_**, **_sweet-tang-honney_**,** _lakelady8425_**,** _Dodge'89_**,** **the 2 guest,** _Annie27766_**,** _Consuela_**, **_KelseyK_**,** **and** _dracoisforever_ **for**** reviewing!**

**x x x**

"_Sometimes we fall down, can't get back up.  
__We're hiding behind skin that's still tough.  
__How come we don't say, 'I love you' enough,  
__'til it's too late? It's not too late.__"__  
_

_- "__Live Like We Were Dying__" by __Kris Allen_

**x x x**

**~{ Chapter Six: Trip to Hogsmeade }~**

People talked, people stared. Rumors were spreading like wildfire as soon as Hermione and Tom entered the Great Hall, hand-in-hand. Nearly half of the Hall _stared_. Hermione bit her tongue, refusing to run and hide, while Tom walked unfazed by the stares and sounds of whispers that were obviously about them.

Tom guided Hermione to sit down across the way from Avery and Marcilla. The two stared with wide eyes as Hermione's hand left Tom's and filled her plate in a hurry while Tom straightened his crooked tie and sat down beside Hermione, immediately wrapping a possessive arm around her. Hermione was _starving _and she hadn't realized it until the scent of the food had hit her nostrils and awakened the appetite she had nearly forgotten about.

"Are you two, like, a _t__hing_?" Avery inquired with a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

Marcilla just shook her head before saying, "This is certainly a first." She raised her eyebrows and looked down at her food, going back to eating.

Tom put on a false, baffled expression as he looked at the two. "Hermione didn't tell you? I must say, I'm astonished."

With a mouth full of perfect chicken, Hermione glared at Tom with infuriated brown eyes and a very maddened expression.

"How did it happen? I mean, when," Avery demanded.

Tom took a delicate bite of his corn before speaking. "She asked me after classes just this past Friday."

Hermione's grip tightened on her fork, turning her knuckles white as her jaw tightened. Avery and Marcilla were unmindful to her mood.

"That doesn't make sense...you guys have been so..._distant_," Marcilla pointed out as she crossed her arms on the table before her.

Hermione felt Tom shrug beside her. "We've talked a lot in private." He cleared his throat and shifted a little. "Hermione and I are going to Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Finally!" Avery immediately squealed excitedly.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "We are?"

"Mhm," Tom hummed with a small, smug smile that suited him _too _well.

Hermione had no objections to going to Hogsmeade, besides having to go with _him_. She finally wanted to see the place for herself. Maybe a memory would come to her since the name was as familiar.

"Great," Marcilla said in a near monotone, seeming a bit unhappy at that.

**x x x**

Hermione hadn't her own coat just quite yet, so she was forced to allow Tom to let her borrow one of his old coats. It was thick, comfortable, brown, and smelled just like him. She hated to admit it, but she liked that. Hermione added on her Slytherin scarf, wearing the clothes she had come to Hogwarts in.

It was unacceptably cold outside and Hermione despised that.

It had been a full week since Tom had taken her, and all week he fussed over her. Monday, Hermione was so sore she refused to go to class, making up an excuse that her stomach was just upset. Tom had made her a potion that day to help her feel better. The next day, Tom was by her side constantly, walking her to her classes and introducing her to her teachers. They kissed softly, and snogged rarely. Hermione had found that she loved learning and that her classes were easier than what she had expected them to be. Tom was happy with that, or so Hermione thought he seemed to be. They had Potions together and on Wednesday, Slughorn, their Potions teacher, had invited Hermione to join his Slug Club because of how much he'd come to like her in the two classes she'd had with him that week. Hermione didn't know how to pinpoint it, but Slughorn felt so familiar to her. He made her feel _at home_. Thursday was the most boring day of the week. She only had one class and had to dedicate the rest of the day to her homework. Tom worked on his homework alongside her in the library where he used to tutor her. They worked in silence and Hermione was actually comfortable that way, though she still felt a small amount of fear and panic somewhere inside her, and was confused over it.

But still there were no flashbacks or memories coming to mind. She began losing faith in getting her memories back. Yes, it was ridiculously cold outside, but there were no signs of snow. Not yet. Hermione saw her breath before her as she held onto Tom's hand with both of her naked ones. Tom didn't seem to mind one bit.

For the first time in days, Hermione allowed herself to think about Sunday evening.

She felt like she was at war with herself. Her heart was mad for him. She loved the way that Tom made her feel..._important_. More than anyone at Hogwarts had made her feel so far. And the way he made her feel when he took her virginity..._bloody hell _did she want to feel that again. She wanted him to fuck her again, but the times that their snogging sessions had gone hot, he had literally stopped himself shakily, telling her how he didn't want to hurt her and wanted her to be completely healed before the next time.

Hermione's mind was screaming at herself. She wasn't being wise. It was unhealthy to have someone like Tom be her boyfriend. He was possessive. He had raped her...well...at first... He had slapped her, he had threatened her, he had called her a "Mudblood" countless times... This relationship was unhealthy. Maybe at first, Hermione guessed. But she was happy that there was no violence from him...yet.

But still. She wanted him. She wandered if he wanted her too.

As she thought about this, she rested her head against Tom's arm as they continued to walk, her eyes on the ground as they walked to Hogsmeade. Avery and Marcilla were ahead of them with one of Tom's friends, Abraxas Malfoy. The two girls were laughing with Abraxas about something.

Abraxas was a kind, platinum blonde boy who was obviously rich. Something about him reminded Hermione of someone, but it was no surprise to her that she couldn't think of who. He wasn't that Harry boy or Ron boy from her past memories. Not anyone who had been in her memories so far.

Hermione wondered how Abraxas was friends with someone like Tom.

As expected, Hogsmeade itself was just as familiar as the name was to her. The sky was a dreadful grey, but still there were no signs of snow. Everyone was told to expect snow by the time they'd be heading back to Hogwarts.

Hermione was hoping for snow. She had assumed she loved winter because of that hope.

"The Three Broomsticks!" Avery announced with excitement when they stood before a small building with three mini brooms on the sign in the shape of a triangle, reading the shop's name in the middle of it.

Marcilla opened the door, revealing a small-looking bar with plenty of tables to sit at. Hermione felt the comforting warmth radiate from the opened door, following in suit last.

Avery claimed a table for them, giving a small smile to Abraxas as he sat down beside her.

"Right then. Who will get the drinks?" Avery asked as she folded her hands before her, a small smile set to her lips as she accusingly looked around the table.

"Can we all agree on a Butterbeer?" Marcilla asked next.

No one had any objections being that a Butterbeer was why they had come to The Three Broomsticks to begin with.

Hermione suddenly felt inclined. "I'll go grab the drinks," she said before she sat down. She unwrapped her scarf and took off her coat, hanging the coat and scarf on the back of her chair besides Tom delicately.

Everyone at the table gave her grateful smiles, immediately handing their galleons over to her. She soon walked over to the bar where the waiter stood cleaning a previously-used mug. He looked at her and nodded his head as a way of asking her what she wanted.

Hermione ordered the six Butterbeers, paid, and was soon asked to wait. She stood there patiently waiting.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," came a very unfamiliar voice from beside Hermione.

She looked over to find a man, dressed in wealthy wizard clothing, a face that couldn't be more than thirty years of age, brown eyes almost black as coal, a closely-trimmed goatee, and light brown hair. He bowed his head to her in a respectful way as he leaned against the counter. He stood nearly five inches taller than her, but he somehow wasn't intimidating.

"Forgive me, do I know you?" Hermione asked as politely as she could from her confusion.

He gave her a warm smile. "No. But I know _you_."

Hermione became even more puzzled.

She blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I know you because of Dumbledore."

Hermione's mouth shut. In a way, she understood. He must know something about her.

His voice suddenly went a hinge quieter. "My name is Xander Berrington. I'm apart of the Wizard Police and Dumbledore has come to me about your..._problem_."

Hermione's ears perked up, but her body slightly shrunk. _Oh, no_.

"My...'_problem_'?" she asked softly.

"Loss of memory, perhaps from the future?"

Hermione suddenly felt off guard. Xander saw that she understood and continued. "It's possible, for such things to happen, Miss Granger. Dumbledore thinks it's obvious that you're from the future. He tells me you're quite a fast learner, how it appears you know everything your tutor has been teaching you."

Hermione hesitated before speaking. "What do you suggest I do, Officer Berrington?"

"Nothing. We have investigators working on it."

She signed. Was it really wise to tell a stranger of her feelings? "I'm scared."

"I know. It's perfectly natural for someone in your position to feel that way. We're working our best to sort this all out."

The order was up and a large tray of Butterbeers was handed to Hermione.

"I'll talk with you again soon. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger."

Hermione gave him a small smile before she headed back to the table where Avery was flirting with Abraxas and Marcilla sat staring at the fire. Tom had his eyes on Hermione. He got up, like a gentleman, and grabbed the tray from her, setting it down in the middle of the table with ease. Abraxas was the first to grab his mug, followed by Tom, Marcilla, and Avery. Tom grabbed Hermione's and sat it down before her.

He took a sip of his Butterbeer before speaking. "Who were you just talking to?"

Hermione grabbed the handle of her mug, but just stared at the drink. "Officer Berrington. He says he and some investigators are looking into my existence here," she mumbled. She lent forward and took a sip. As she had hoped, a memory came to her.

"_That's disgusting," Hermione said with a displeased face. She was 16 there, glaring at that red head Ron and some girl with long frizzy blonde hair snogging by the fireplace. She was sitting in The Three Broomsticks, a more updated-looking version, beside her friend, the boy with the lightening scar – Harry._

"_Can't be any worse than that," Harry said as he pointed to the opposite corner of the pub where a red head sat snogging a black boy._

_Hermione let out a sigh. "What are we to do, Harry?" She felt hopeless._

_Harry shrugged, finishing off the last of his Butterbeer. "I have no idea."_

_Hermione wanted to groan, or whine – anything, but she knew it wouldn't be...well, her. So she grabbed her mug of Butterbeer and took a long sip from it, savoring the buttery sweetness of the cool drink._

Hermione blinked, staring down at her Butterbeer which was now knocked over and spilled all over herself and the table.

"When the bloody hell, Hermione!" Avery screeched.

"Guys, stop," Tom barked, defending Hermione as he then turned his head to lean in towards her. "It was a memory, wasn't it."

Hermione put her hand to her head. When did she get a migraine? "Yeah, yeah it was. But I don't feel good," she murmured to Tom as as she got up, taking out her wand to clean up the mess.

Tom got up with Hermione. "Want me to walk you back to Hogwarts?"

"No, it's fine. You enjoy your time here," Hermione told him in a soft voice. No memory had every brought her pain like this before.

"It was rhetorical, Hermione," Tom said in a low voice as he grabbed the coat and held it out for Hermione. She slipped in it and before she knew it, Tom was tying the scarf around her neck. He looked unhappy.

"Hermione's unwell. I'm taking her back home."

The three left at the table said nothing as Hermione and Tom left.

In no time, they left the village and began on their walk back to the school. Hermione buried her hands in the pockets of the coat she wore, her shoulders hunched up. The cold wasn't helping the pain pounding through her head.

Tom walked beside her, an arm wrapped around her, quiet.

"I'm sorry, Tom," Hermione said sadly.

Tom shook his head. "It's alright. What matters is that you're getting your memories. I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey right away so she can give you a potion for the headache."

Hermione said nothing as she just leaned into Tom, seeking the comfort of her boyfriend.

**x x x**

_It was another memory. It had to be. Hermione was twelve years old, young and naïve. She sat beside Harry in the library – Hogwarts. Ron sat on the other side of Harry._

_But it was an odd memory. Hermione felt like it was just a dream with different people her mind seemed to recognize._

"_Tom Riddle. Clear as daylight, guys," said Harry as he held out the leather journal with Tom Marvolo Riddle. The journal was damaged. A big huge hole sat in the middle of it, ink bleeding out from it almost as if it were a living thing._

_**Horcrux**__, her mind whispered._

"_I never thought he'd be Voldemort though."_

_Ron cringed along with Hermione. "__**Harry**__," they said at the same time._

"_Sorry," Harry said apologetically. "__**He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named**__."_

_**Evil**__, her mind whispered next._

_This wasn't good. This wasn't good one bit._

The next thing Hermione knew, she was sitting up in her bed, cringing from the headache that had returned to her from the memory. It was in the middle of the night and sweat was trickling down Hermione's forehead and neck.

She breathed deeply, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as her mind registered what she had just seen in the memory.

Tom Riddle was Voldemort? _Her _Tom Riddle? The Tom Riddle that was her boyfriend? He was evil?

_Voldemort_...so familiar.

She was frightened. She felt so confused and out of place as she she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her elbows on the knees and tangling her hands in her hair as she shook her head.

It was clear now that she was, indeed from the present. And not only was she from the present, but something bad had happened to her to bring her to the doorstep of her enemy. She didn't know how, but she could feel it in her soul from her memory. Tom Riddle was bad news. She knew that in the beginning, but still he had become as close to her as he was now.

She wondered if Tom knew anything about this.

She wondered if she should tell him if he didn't.

She wondered about so many more things besides that though.

How did she get here? Where was her parents? What had happened for her to get "Mudblood" on her arm? Was there a reason she was here? What happened to Harry and Ron? Where those two her best friends? How was she going to get back home?

She laid back down in her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin as she curled into a ball on her side, now cool from the cold air in the room, shivering with fear and uncertainty. She was so sick and tired of feeling vulnerable and uncertain like this. She just wanted her memories back. She just wanted to be where she belonged. She just wanted everything to go good for a change.

It wasn't until she was in that blissful state between sleep and reality that something Tom had said earlier sunk in.

_He'd referred to Hogwarts as her home._


	8. 7: Truth Part 1

**A/N: **Sorry for the delayed update! I know, I'm like saying that in every chapter, but still, I'm sorry. But I guess it'd be better if I just said that from here on in, that the chapters will have a slower update time, but that doesn't mean I'll stop updating all together. I still have plans for this. Hope you all like what those plans will be...enjoy the update. Also, just wanted to let you guys know I've updated the first tw chapters of the fic, so when you get to, check them out. I added dates to them.

Forever in thanks of my beta _Onesmartcookie78_.

**Oh! And thank you **_Dodge1989_**, **_kraco, aaronlisa_**, **_ellebelle12_**, **_MissPitchBlack98_**, **guest**, **Jessica**, **_Syren James_**, **_Ashley Ayoub_**, **_VAMPIRESEX_**, **_I Kneel for Loki_**, and **_lorienlorie_** for the reviews! I love you all so very much for all the lovely reviews you guys have been leaving me!**

**x x x**

"_I stared up at the sun,  
thought of all of the people,  
__places, and things I've loved.  
__I stared up just to see,  
__of all the faces,  
__you were the one next to me.  
__You can feel the light start to tremble,  
__washing what you know out to sea.  
__You can see your life out of the window tonight.  
__If I lose myself tonight,  
__It'll be by your side."__  
_

_- "If I Lose Myself" by OneRepublic_

**x x x**

**~{ Chapter Seven: Truth Part 1 }~**

**13 June 1999**

"Hermione, open up! _Please_!" Harry pleaded on the other side of the door.

Hermione, who sat crying her hardest on her bed, curled up in a ball, ignored him.

It had been the third day Harry had tried to contact her. No letter from Ron, just persistent visits from Harry. Ginny had sent owls, but Hermione refused to answer.

"I _know _you're in there, Hermione."

_Enough. _Hermione lost her temper. "_Go away, Harry_!" She shrieked.

She rolled over, facing the wall now as she tightened the blanket that was wrapped around her. _Go away, Harry_.

After an hour, the pounding on the door had stopped and the sun was going down.

She sighed heavily, staring at the colourless wall. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She knew she had to eat something.

Weakly, she dragged herself out of bed and headed into her kitchen where she opened her fridge to find nothing edible. She sighed and searched her cabinets, but she found nothing edible either. She put her hand to her forehead, her free hand on her hip, stressed. She looked around. She'd need to leave the flat if she wanted to eat something.

But she didn't want to eat much.

Just something to take away the painful hunger.

She sniffled, walking into the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. She paused to take a look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red, pained by all the crying she had done in the past how-ever-many days. All her pain relief potions had run out, even the Muggle pain killers. She needed to head to the store. She had the money stashed away.

She looked at her hair, which was still in that dreadful wedding up-do it had been in days before. And then a memory came to her, a memory of the past...back when she had no memories of her real life...back when she was trapped in the dreadful history of the past. Back when she was holding hands with the enemy.

Back when that enemy was her lover.

**x x x**

**27 November 1942**

"Really, Hermione, it's not that bad," Tom said with a chuckle behind her as she stood in the empty girl's lavatory, messing with her hair furiously. She had cut it in hopes that it would look more tamed. Why, _why _was it such a terrible fuzzy mess?

She had cut her bangs, leaving them running across her eyebrow lines like she had seen the other girls walking around the school. But they weren't cooperating with her, and it infuriated her.

"Stop it," Hermione scowled as she stopped and let out an angry sigh, staring at her reflection. Her bangs parted at the left of her forehead. They wouldn't stay together. She _hated _that.

She shook her head and pulled a ribbon from the pocket of her sweater, tying her frizzy hair up in a high ponytail. She paused and looked at her reflection once more.

"It'll have to do," she said more to her reflection than to Tom.

Tom wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder as he looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Hermione, darling, you look fine," he said softly before turning his head to kiss her cheek. He pulled away from her, examining his reflection as he straightened his tie and brushed his bangs from his forehead, looking superior.

Hermione sneered at him, shaking her head. He was always so prideful. And it was times like this that she disliked it.

Not that she ever liked it.

"What." His eyes narrowed on her as he turned to her.

She turned to look up at her. "Nothing."

She gathered her comb in her new beauty bag Avery had gotten her. She turned away and began leaving when Tom roughly grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"No. You tell me what that sneer was for," he demanded.

His eyes had darkened perilously as Hermione's eyes slightly widened.

But there was no way she would back down just because he scared her whenever her got angry.

_Temper_.

"You're too arrogant," she scowled, yanking her wrist from his hand. "I'll be late to Divination."

"I don't know why you have to spoil everything with that attitude of yours," Tom said to Hermione, still behind her when she left the lavatory and walked out into the hallway.

Hermione rolled her eyes, glad he didn't see as she continued to walk away. He'd be late to his class, which was the opposite way.

**x x x**

It was late – really late – when Hermione left the library. She had said goodnight to the librarian, heading down the hallways to the Slytherin common room. That is, until she stopped in front of a classroom, hearing Tom's voice.

He was speaking with Professor Dumbledore.

He sounded..._caught_.

Hermione inched closer, listening.

"...didn't you tell me, Tom? This is a serious matter. What in Merlin's beard gave you the impression that you had to keep this a secret?" Dumbledore asked. He sounded disappointed, softly angry.

"Sir, don't think I don't have idea what that device is," Tom said, his voice sounding as if he was worried about something.

There was a pausing silence.

"The restricted section is titled 'restricted' for a reason, Tom," Dumbledore said in a low voice. Hermione barely heard it.

"It's a Time Turner, sir."

"Yes, I know what it is," Dumbledore finally snapped. He sounded suddenly infuriated. That somehow frightened Hermione, but she didn't let a sound leave her body, not even a gasp. She only peered into the crack of the classroom door.

There, far off in the back of the room where Dumbledore's desk was, was him seated at the desk and Tom leaning over it, his hands grasping the edge of the desk.

_Time Turner, _Hermione thought.

A memory.

_Oh, please, not now. Of all times._

Hermione clutched her mouth, muffling any possible sounds as she moved away from the crack in fear that if she made a sound, she'd be seen as well as heard.

"_It's a Time Turner, Harry," Hermione said, sounding impatient. She had just wrapped a golden necklace around her and the boy with the lightning scar._

_Hermione held the necklace up, showing a pendent with a spinning hourglass in the middle. The Time-Turner._

_She spun it a few times and let go of it, suddenly finding it spin__ning__ so fast. Everything around them rewound in a fast motion, but Harry and Hermione staid still, motionless as they stared down at the spinning device._

The memory was quick, short, but just enough to inflict pain upon Hermione. She was lucky to not have made any noises as a tear ran down her cheek, her eyes blinking as she focused on the now. Especially on the voices.

"...you could keep something like this from Hermione."

Her body froze. She was involved in this conversation. She moved back to the crack, looking in.

Dumbledore was holding up something.

The Time Turner.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, a mix of pain and shock.

What was Dumbledore doing with that Time Turner? And how was she involved in this conversation?

"I..."

Tom Riddle was _speechless_.

Hermione never thought that was possible for him.

"Tom," Dumbledore started, he suddenly sounded old with authority and concern, "it was not in your place to take this from her when you found her. Do you have any idea what this means?"

"Yes, sir." Tom sounded disappointed now.

"There's a curse on this Time-Turner, Tom. We need to find out what the curse is, why it was placed on the Time Turner, and how it can be lifted. For now, I need you to stay close to Miss Granger. If anything were to happen to her... There are dangerous people in this world, Tom. Even in these walls. If they were to find out about the true nature of Miss Granger, then bad things would surely happen."

Hermione had let out a breath, but sucked in a new one in just to have it catch her throat again. Was she hearing all of this correctly?

All pain from the memory forgotten, Hermione took a step back from the door. She shook her head and covered her mouth once more, quickly hurrying away from the room and to the common room where she plopped down on the carpet before the fire, sighing. The fire looked so relaxing to watch at the moment.

Had she really heard them right?

So it was true.

Hermione...was here because of that Time Turner. And a curse was placed on it. Which was probably why she had been sent so far back in time. Her memory told her that a Time-Turner can only take you back hours...not years.

She knew the nature of the Time Turner.

But how had she gotten here.

And why were her memories missing?

Hermione must have sat there for hours because when Tom finally came in, he found her sitting there staring at the fire with a vacant expression. Slowly, he walked over to her, sitting down next to her.

"Hermione?" he asked, puzzled.

Hermione didn't look away from the fire. "What's a Time Turner?" she asked softly.

She knew what a Time Turner was. She wanted to hear what Tom's reply was.

Tom was quiet for a moment. "So you heard."

"I did."

"How much?"

"Enough."

Tom nodded his head as he looked away to the fire, scratching his chin before looking over at Hermione again.

"Does Dumbledore know what curse is on it?" Hermione asked next.

"No."

Hermione slowly nodded her head before saying, "You knew what it was. And yet you stole it from me."

And then something new was added to her mind. A memory, but nothing visual. Just informative.

Dumbledore gave her that Time Turner.

How...how was it that Dumbledore was here now? Did he really work at Hogwarts for so long? That would mean...

She quickly stood up. "I need to go back to my time. I don't belong here." She felt herself begin to hyperventilate.

Tom stood abruptly, reaching for Hermione, but she naturally shied away from his touch without any thought.

"Don't say that." Tom sounded..._hurt_. She never heard him sound like that before and it hurt _her _to hear him like that. "I didn't understand, Hermione," he tried to reason. "I saw it, knew what it was, but had no knowledge of the curse on it, or how it had brought you here. For heaven's sake, Hermione. You were nearly dead. I didn't even know if it was yours."

"Well it is. Dumbledore gave it to me in my time."

Tom froze, his eyes staring at her for a moment. "Dumbledore..."

"Headmaster of Hogwarts in my time..."

"Huh," he huffed.

She shook her head. "You shouldn't have taken it though. Dumbledore could have had a solution by now if he'd been given it earlier. Or even better, I could have all of my memories returned to me."

Tom shook his head, denial and anger written all over his face. "You're not going back to your time. I won't allow it," Tom said, determined as he pointed a finger at her and walked away.

Hermione stood there, watching him with a saddened expression. Tom couldn't be serious. That was like keeping a human from nature. Nothing good would come out of it. Hermione could feel it.

**x x x**

_Hermione was only eleven and was nervously walking up to the stool in front of hundreds of curious eyes. She sat down, and the Sorting hat was placed upon her frizzy hair. She was sorted into Gryffindor and..._

_She was twelve, hidden in the Restricted section where she was searching for anything about the Chamber of Secrets when she found what she was looking for. __**Basilisk**__. __She had no choice but to rip the page out, even though it broke her heart. She left to tell..._

_She was thirteen, screaming at Harry for casting a spell at a teacher. A __**bloody teacher for Merlin's sake**__. She had dirt smudged all over her face, and her body ached from the travel here to the Shrieking..._

_She was fourteen, hugging her best friend in fear that he'd die in this first task for the Triwizard Tournament. She was scared for him. Rita Skeeter interrupted..._

_She was fifteen, anger boiling up within her at the mere sight of Dolores Umbridge. The nerve of that woman! But Dumbledore's Army..._

_She was sixteen, crying on the stairs near the Gryffindor common room, in the arms of her best friend Harry Potter who held her..._

_She was seventeen and she wished she was dead. Her lungs were burning from how long she had been running, her wand tightly gripped in her shaking hand as she cast spells behind her at the attackers. __**This was it**__._

_She was twelve again, her eyebrows furrowed __at__ Harry as she watched him mess with a blank leather journal in his hands with 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' on the back cover. What was he looking for? Harry had told her about how he had __**traveled inside **__the journal and saw that a strange boy by the name 'Tom Riddle' had caught Hagrid..._

Hermione tossed and turned in her bed as she tangled herself in her sheets and blankets further, whimpering and crying, but unable to escape the memories from hitting her one moment right after the other. _So much pain...make it stop!_

Avery stood before Hermione's bed, worried with a hand over her mouth. A tired Marcilla groaned and got to her feet, rubbing her eyes as she walked over to stand beside Avery, holding a candle.

"What's going on?" Marcilla asked in a cranky, scratchy voice.

"Go an' fetch Headmaster Dippet," Avery said in almost a whisper. Marcilla knew Avery's tone and was off instantly.

Hermione's body wasn't physically ready for the last remaining memory.


	9. 8: Truth Part 2

**A/N: **I'm so incredibly sorry for the delay in update. I know, it's been a while. But my one friend has been going through a lot and I've been there for her constantly. And then she graduated! I helped her out with her grad party, so I'm happy to say I'm proud of her. Alright. So back to finishing this story. Here's the second part to Truth. Enjoy.

_Thank you to Onesmartcookie78 for being my beta and still being my beta after my random Hiatus._

The reviews have been a wonderful thing. They literally make me smile and want to finish the story off within the night! So thank you bunches to: _kraco_, _Ashley Ayoub_, _xMusicGurlx_, _EndlessDelenaObsessedDesire_, guest, _1Deivle_, _Ihore21_, _VampireMaddy_, _Immortal Obsession_, and _callejastephanie_ (I'd put your dot in between the two names, but your name keeps disappearing...).

**x x x**

_"I made myself at home,  
__in the cobwebs and the lies.  
__I'm learning all your tricks,  
__I can hurt you from inside.  
__I made myself a promise,  
__you would never see me cry,  
__'til I make you.  
__You'll never know what hit you,  
__won't see me closing in.  
__I'm gonna make you suffer,  
__this __h__ell you put me in.  
__I'm underneath your skin,  
__the devil within..."__  
_

_- "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers_

**x x x**

**~{Chapter 8: Truth Part 2}~**

_Hermione's breath was heavy, her heart pounding in her ears as she fumbled with her shirt, feeling for the Time Turner. She always wore it, should she ever need it. And right now, she needed it._

_She dodged a curse sent her way. The Death Eater pursued her and the distance between them was slowly deteriorating._

_Finally, she grabbed the Time Turner. Quickly, she spun it __in the hopes of escaping this dangerous situation__. __Hope flooded her bloodstream at the sight of the Time Turning spinning round and around. To her dismay, another curse was sent her way, hitting her just before she disappeared__. How hadn't she seen it? Before her eyes shut, she caught sight of the man who had sent the curse towards her and it was no Death Eater. It had been Lord Voldemort._

_She felt time move before her. Something wasn't right. And then there was the searing pain in her head. __It increased until she had to belt out a scream, tears forming. She felt as if her throat was being squeezed by an invisible force, blocking her breath.__ It felt as if she were falling through time and space, everything around her blurry. Time was moving faster than it should have. Her eyes squeezed closed, her breath heavy and scarce. It felt as if it were to never end._

_Finally, __out of nowhere, e__verything stopped._

_She dropped to __a stone__ floor. __She tried to move but only found herself crying out in pain. Her eyes slowly opened, looking around for any indication of where she could have turned up at.__The pain was too much._

_**Sleep.**_

_The sounds of footsteps were muffled in her ears. Someone was drawing near. She looked around, panicking. __Before everything went black, she was staring up at the most beautiful boy she had ever seen in her entire existence._

**x x x**

Tom paced back and forth, his hands together at the palms as his fingertips touched his lips, hiding the firm line they were set to. His eyebrows were furrowed. _What if this was my fault? _He wondered.

Dumbledore came through the doors of the hospital wing. Tom stopped and looked up at the aged wizard.

"How is she?" Tom immediately asked, his voice persistent.

"She's in terrible shape, I'm afraid."

"Well, _what happened_?"

Dumbledore motioned his head, wanting Tom to walk with him.

"I'm afraid Miss Granger needs to return to her time," Dumbledore started.

Tom disliked hearing that with all of his cold heart. Shaking his head, he said, "_No_. I won't allow it."

Dumbledore had a feeling that this would be Tom's reaction, and it worried him. "Time, Tom, is beginning to recognize that she should not be here."

Tom stared at the stone floors they walked along. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice less harsh than usual to Dumbledore's surprise.

"What I mean is that the longer Miss Granger stays here, the more lethal the memories that she receives will become." Dumbledore looked over at Tom to watch his reaction to this news.

Tom wore a blank, protected face now, but Dumbledore saw the conflict in the boy's eyes. He knew what he had to do now.

"I'm giving you my permission to look through the Restricted Section," Dumbledore said calmly, as if it weren't a big deal to begin with. "It's important that we find a way to save her, one way or another."

Tom would have smirked, but right now he didn't feel the need to. He was too worried about Hermione.

"Hermione says she knows you in the future," Tom said at random.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "It is possible," he finally murmured with a gentle nod of his head.

Tom stopped walking. "I'll be sure to find a way. But it's late. I'm exhausted and in need of rest." He nodded his head to Dumbledore.

"Goodnight, Tom," Dumbledore said as he watched the boy walk off.

Tom was glad he found Abraxas by the stone pillars of the courtyard. Abraxas saw him and quickly rose from his leaning state.

"My Lord," he greeted.

"Get the others, Malfoy. I'm calling for a meeting."

**x x x**

"What I don't understand, my Lord, is _why _and _how _you expect us to help a _Mudblood_," said one of Tom's followers.

They all sat up in the Astronomy Tower, their usual meeting place. Tom stood by the balcony, leaning against the wall near the opening that looked over the lake. He sneered. "Mudblood or not, she's mine. Now I'm your Dark Lord and you are my followers. I suggest that you do as I say before I make sure you severely regret defying me," Tom said slowly. There was something in Tom's voice that made everyone somehow shiver with fear.

"We will look into it right away, my Lord," murmured Abraxas with promise.

"Oh, I know you will," said Tom with much determination, "You are dismissed."

Everyone got up from where they sat and left without a word, but Abraxas remained. Tom turned his attention to him, his dark eyes questioning Abraxas as to why he was still there after being dismissed.

"If I hadn't known any better, I'd say the Mudblood was turning you soft." There was doubt in the boy's voice that deeply angered Tom.

Tom took out his wand. "I don't know what you're talking about." For a second Tom looked calm until his eyes quickly darkened and spat, "_Crucio_."

**x x x**

Slowly, Hermione's eyes opened, but she had to close them again quickly. The morning sun that shone through the Hospital Wing's windows was too bright for her over-sensitive eyes. She groaned to test her voice.

She waited for the sound of Pomfrey's voice, but that never came. Suddenly, a hand was gripping hers. She recognized the hand to be Tom's, just from the grip, the smoothness of the skin, and the promise that the hand held.

"How do you feel?" She heard him ask. Tom sounded _concerned_. That made her feel a bit better, but only mentally.

"Like I've been under the Cruciatus Curse for hours," she said in a dry voice.

Tom frowned. He somehow felt that she had experienced that before, which made him worry.

Hermione suddenly felt Tom's lips against hers, but he was gone the moment she realized he had kissed her. Soon, she felt cool, smooth glass against her lips. _Water_. She parted her lips and gratefully accepted the cold liquid.

"My eyes hurt too much to open them. What happened?" she inquired, confused.

"You had a memory." Silence. "What was it?" Tom sounded curious now instead of worried.

Hermione thought for a moment before she worked on carefully peeling open her eyes to look up at Tom. "Voldemort," escaped her lips. _Tom is Voldemort_. He was the reason she was here.

Something flashed in Tom's green eyes. "What?" he sounded confused and amazed...but there was an edge to his voice that frightened Hermione. "How did you find out about that?"

Hermione's head pounded as she could not help but moan. She watched as Tom reached out to her, but as she sat up, she flinched away. A flicker of pained confusion was seen in her eyes.

"My memory," she murmured. Fear was flooding through her as she forced herself to move fast, kicking the blankets off. She struggled to get to her feet as the room felt as if it were spinning. _I need to get away from him_. She knew that if she told him to leave, he'd be as bull-headed as ever and wouldn't.

"What are you doing?" Tom demanded.

"I need to find Dumbledore," Hermione snapped, grabbing her wand off of the nightstand and pointing it to Tom as soon as he got up and rounded the bed towards her.

"Come any closer and you'll wish you hadn't," Hermione threatened as she tried to slowly walk around him to hurry off towards the exit. That threat soon turned into a bluff when she stumbled. Her wand dropped to the floor before she did. She let out a yelp, the fall hurting her.

Tom looked down at her over his nose, his features slightly softening as he sighed and grabbed her forearms, pulling her to her feet as if it were no hard task. He sat her back down on the bed where she belonged. Hermione sat there, glaring at Tom as he knelt down before her, less threatening.

"Dumbledore had to leave. He won't be back for a few weeks." He looked like he was concentrating, looking up at Hermione as he curled a lip for a moment. "Now tell me what this is all about."

Hermione just continued to glare, silent.

"I _will _use Legilimency on you."

She still said nothing.

Suddenly, Hermione felt him at the walls of her mind. _I may be sick, but I'm still strong._

Tom couldn't get passed her walls. He became enraged at this. "How do you know Occlumency?"

"My friend Harry taught me."

"But whatever for?" He got up, now looking down at Hermione.

"Your followers."

Tom raised an eyebrow.

Hermione looked away from him. "I don't want to see you right now. Leave me," she said darkly.

Tom could have been stubborn. He always was that way. After all, he never did do as he was told, unless one had enough authority. But to Hermione's surprise, he turned around and stalked away.

A part of Hermione wished he could have done what he always did and refuse to leave her.

But Tom was Voldemort. He killed Harry Potter's parents. He hates all things muggle. He tried to take over the world with dark, unforgiving, and forbidden magic.

Suddenly, she was frightened of returning to her time. What if Voldemort had truly won? What if he had taken over the world and her returning would mean her death? She trembled at the thought, her heart beating loudly in her ears as she shook her head. Her head was hurting far too much to deal with this right now. Tom was all she had in this place that she called "home" from her memories, which had sadly felt the complete opposite now. She needed Tom. And somehow, she felt as if Tom needed her too. She didn't want to fight. They always fought and that scared her – that she might lose him, what he was to her and what she was to him, forever.

"Tom, wait," she choked out.

She looked over at him. Tom had just frozen before the door, his back to her for a moment before he turned upset eyes to her. She realized she had hurt and confused him.

_Why_ did she feel so guilty?

"You know me in the future?"

Hermione turned her head away from him, softly scoffing. "You could say that."

Tom quietly walked over to Hermione, sitting down beside her.

"Tom," she said shakily, taking in a deep breath as she chose her words wisely. "_Please_ understand that I can't tell you what my memory was. Please understand that...that I'm _scared_," she said with a trembling voice. She was shaking now, feeling weak and vulnerable.

She looked for any show of feeling in Tom's face, only to find conflict. But he said nothing. Gently, he grabbed her arm, laying her down with him beside her. Once Hermione and Tom were situated, Tom wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"You need to rest," was all he told her.

Hermione didn't push him away. She just found herself literally melting into his warm embrace. But how could such a cold-hearted man have such a warm, loving embrace? She closed her eyes, trying to push one thought from her mind.

_Murderer_.


	10. Responses to a Few Reviews

Sorry for the interruption of your reading or if I gave you high hopes for a new chapter, but...I wanted to make a separate thing for a response to a few reviews I've gotten from chapters 2 and 3 of this story. I kinda want you guys to read through this.

**Chapter 2 Review:**

**_Mudbloodsandmurmurs__'s:_**

"_Okay, I don't mean to start whining since it's the first chapter, but I just cannot help but be annoyed that she's in Slytherin. Literally every single Tomione fic I read has her placed in that house simply because it's more convenient. I don't understand it at all, yes, she may have Slytherin traits, but she is completely Gryffindor at heart. You might as well put Tom in Gryffindor. I don't mean to rant. I actually really like this story (so far) but I just wish that every Tomione author wouldn't take that route :/ Anyway, I wonder why Hermione's in the past? I hope she gets her memories back soon. I thought the professors were quite unsympathetic..I mean, she wakes up and is immediately expected to start school, despite the fact that she was found in the middle of the hallway with horrible injuries and unable to recall how she got them. You'd think they'd give her a break, wouldn't you?_**"**

**Author's Response:**

You're not ranting or being whiny at all! Reviews are reviews, that's why that box is there for a reason, hon. I understand completely. While it can be very annoying, please understand that the reason I placed Hermione into Slytherin is because of how she had just been through a war and was sent back into time. While she lost her memories, she still had the essence within her of the use of the dark magic, the things she had been through, the things she had seen, basically her loss of innocence. The Sorting Hat immediately assumed she was meant for Slytherin because of that. And being that this story is completely AU that is how I wrote it. And yes, I thought the professors were unsympathetic as well, but do you realize all of the harshness teachers had back around that time? Education was key. I wanted to focus the professors around how I view the time period's teachers.

**Chapter 3 Review:**

**_Mudbloodsandmurmurs__'s:_**

"_Oh thank God, Riddle's not fluffy. I was worried. With Tomione fics, you never know what version of Riddle you're getting unless the author posts a note telling you. I'm glad he's still dark, and I'm glad Hermione isn't cowering in fear but instead fighting back. Definitely excited to find out where you're going with this."_

**Author's Response:**

While I never really mind fluffy!Tom (I don't know man, I think it's the romance that I look forward to the most), I understand that 9 out of 10 people don't, and I think that's cool. You like what you like. And being that I knew that, I tried my best to stay as close to Tom as I could (though I understand that there were times I slipped...). I still am with the help of my beta. I basically had to rewrite my ending because my beta helped me realize how far I was straying from Tom's actual personality.

Dear Readers:

If I had ever strayed from Tom or Hermione's character (or Dumbledore's for that matter), then I highly apologize. All I can tell you is that this story is AU...Alternate. Fucking. Universe.

Peace out, lovelies! Love you all! Stay tuned for chapter 9, coming soon!


	11. Dear ReadersReviewers

**Dear Readers/Reviewers,**

It has come to my attention that I have been a rather ass-hole of an author to not tell you this sooner. I am unable to continue the story here on because of issues with plot and characterization. I've decided that I don't want to stick with canon Tom nor Hermione. When I was writing this, I thought the Tom I was ready to end the story with was canon, but my beta, Onesmartcookie73, pointed out that it wasn't. And therefor, I've decided that I'd take a break and figure things out. Do I just put the story on Hiatus? Do I delete? Do I just leave it here unfinished for those who stumble upon it to enjoy it with what was left?

Then after a while, I had decided to continue it on my Tumblr (you don't have to have a Tumblr to read it on there, darlings). Completely raw without any beta, how I want things to go. The plot will be confusing, certain important Harry Potter historical traits about Tom and his time will be left out, there will be grammatical issues, and the story will finish on my terms. I decided that because honestly, I don't take critics all too well when they complain to me that I'm not staying true to Tom's character and that something isn't right about the plot, etc. During my short break between chapter 8 and chapter 9, a kind person sent me a message on Tumblr, saying how the story is mine, that I should write it how I please. I'm writing for me. Not for the reviewers.

With that said, if those of you who haven't known about this tumblr escapade and are willing to continue to read it, you may find the links to the new chapters (there's three new chapters up as of now and will probably continue to be put up at least once every week or every other week around weekend-time), I've made a "masterpost" of the links to the chapters: _ gml_

Thank you,

_Alice_


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